Rise From The Ashes
by Sybl Angelkat
Summary: Blackheart is sent back to earth, but now he has a soul. It's just part of the punishment for that whole contract incident, right? He's going to find out that being a mortal isn't easy and that learning to love will be the hardest lesson of all.
1. Chapter 1

Hey, guys. Don't worry, I'll still be working on "On Erik's Wings", but I got inspired this morning after watching Ghost Rider a second time. This is my first one, so I can't make any promises. Blackheart/OC.

Rise From The Ashes

By Sybl

Chapter 1

Since he came into this world, there was always something about the demon that was tragically beautiful. He, of course, couldn't see it. He had more "important" things on his mind. He'd often wondered what would be different if all of his self-absorbed plans had actually succeeded. What would come of it then? At this point, it was debatable whether he was even fit to rule the realm of the damned. Blackheart often took solace from one thing, however. He was born to cause trouble. "Born to raise Hell" as Johnny Blaze had often said, both in the literal sense and the metaphorical sense. But this time, he knew he'd gone too far.

"There's a price for everything," his father had said casually, "and the bigger it is, the bigger the price. Believe it or not, everyone and everything has a weakness. Even you."

After weeks of torture, Mephisto knew that nothing down here could possibly get to his son's overinflated ego. As long as Blackheart believed he was right, he could endure the punishments and not learn anything from them. He was running out of ideas to crack his son's invincible shell of stubbornness.

And, at last, he came up with a plan. Having sifted through Blackheart's memories as he'd drained the souls out of his son's body, he remembered the encounter of the Ghost Rider. Blackheart had just sneered at the pennance stare saying "I have no soul to burn".

Hmmm.

Even if it was an evil soul, it was still a soul. All things that contained souls were afraid of something, even if it was only failure. All souls had things that gave them joy. All souls had things that made them sad.

Most importantly, all souls felt pain. Physical pain meant nothing to Blackheart because he'd never been afraid. To him, pain was just a part of existing. Maybe if something truly got under his skin, he would learn that though Hell was the root of all evil, there still must be a balance to maintain. Blackheart would never make a good ruler if he didn't understand that.

After he'd finally gotten this idea, Mephisto limped over to the pit he'd tossed his own son into. The flames parted as the tap of his cane on the stone floor signaled his presence. In the center was Blackheart. He lay on his side, his face swollen and battered. There probably wasn't an inch on the young man's human form that didn't have bruises or blood. Yet, he still retained his arrogance.

"What's next on your list?" he sneered. Mephisto's face didn't betray any emotions as he hauled his injured son out of the fire. The souls that had been beating up on him retreated back into the flames.

"Still feel like staying on earth for a while?"

His tone was dripping with sarcasm. Blackheart hid his puzzlement well, but said nothing as he was dragged down the hallway. He stumbled a little, but refused to acknowledge that he was seriously hurting.

Blackheart was shoved down into a chair and strapped down. Mephisto disappeared for a moment. When he came back, he held what looked like a black orb in his hand. Whatever it was, it didn't seem solid. It was more like a solid black mist compressed into a ball. Even though black was the 

dominant color, he could make out different colors that would occasionally flit through the swirling cloud and give off a weak glow.

"Today, you are no longer my problem," Mephisto said. He walked up to his son (who still hadn't stopped smirking) and pushed the misty black thing against his chest. It absorbed right in and disappeared. The only thing that Blackheart noticed was that he felt an odd fluttering feeling in his chest. Then, with his other hand, Mephisto pressed down on his son's head and withdrew a cloud of black mist. This one had no color to it at all.

"So you took my powers. Big deal. I can get them back, you know," Blackheart laughed.

"There's a little more to it than that," Mephisto said calmly, "you have a soul now."

Right at that second, Blackheart felt as though he'd been struck by lightning. The alien pounding of a heart that did not beat until now almost made him sick. He felt dizzy and lightheaded and the world began to spin, tilt, and blur. Suddenly, the screaming he constantly heard was painfully loud against his ears. He tried in vain to clamp his hands over them, but in vain because his wrists were strapped to the chair. Suddenly, he felt the urge to run.

"Not so easy, is it? Have fun on earth!"

Blackheart disappeared in a swirl of flames and felt as though his whole body was being incinerated. By the time he woke, he was laying facedown in the middle of a desert.

He sat up, wishing the world would stop spinning so fast. Eventually, it did. Several uncomfortable sensations began to make themselves known. The sand seemed abnormally hot and it stung his pale skin when he touched it. His mouth was dry and his stomach was hurting terribly. He could feel his heart crashing against his ribcage like a frightened bird in its cage.

How was he supposed to get out of here? For the first time since he'd been in existence, Blackheart knew that something was horribly wrong. He felt so small in the baking sunlight.

So…

This was what fear felt like. Seeing no other choice, he began to stagger through the sand towards the blacktop paved road that might lead him out of here.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: So… had a little bit of interest in this story

Author's Note: So… had a little bit of interest in this story. I'm absolutely thrilled about that. Everybody was amused by the thought of Blackheart being chucked into the desert with a soul. So, I figured I would hurry up and write the next chapter while I still had time.

Blackheart: I cannot believe I ended up being a muse. My father is so going to pay for this.

Me: grins Yeah. Working for a bunch of fangirls is fun, ain't it?

Blackheart: shudders Finish this damn story as fast as you can. The sooner I can get out of here, the better.

Chapter 2

The heat was suffocating and he'd been walking for nearly four hours, not that he had a way to keep track of it. His pale skin was drenched in sweat. He stripped away the coat he wore and cast it aside. Walking on the pavement was easier than trying to go through the sand, but he was getting very tired very fast. Just when he thought he would pass out from the scorching heat, he reached the city. Something blotted out the relentless sun. Thunder rumbled in the distance and a cool, refreshing wind blew through his black spiky hair. The scent of damp earth was carried on it, the smell of summer rain. People began to scurry around and try to get inside before it could start pouring on them. Blackheart looked up and a fat raindrop plunked right on his nose. It was a strange sensation because it obviously didn't rain anything but brimstone in Hell. It actually made him jump a little because of the sheer force. Another drop pelted him on the forehead. Soon, they were falling in a crystalline curtain all around, hammering the world relentlessly. They spattered against the sidewalk and thumped against the glass of the various stores and shops. Despite the force, the water was cool and felt good on his face. Childish as it was, he tilted his head up and held his mouth open. The drops came willingly and the uncomfortable dryness vanished. They also washed away the dried blood and sand, stinging a little when they hit the cuts and bruises that were exposed.

He turned his head and noticed a woman of about twenty. She had a white dress splashed with huge red flowers on and red shoes. She was spinning in circles, laughing. Bouncing around her feet was a little wheat-colored dog with long hair and big, dark eyes. She was barking noisily at her master.

"I don't care if we look silly! Do you remember the last time it rained?" she asked the dog. The dog just "whuff"-ed and crankily sought shelter under a bench. Blackheart couldn't help but get his signature smirk. The dog was probably smarter than her master. Not caring how wet she got, the woman shook her head and her gold hair was now hanging in corkscrew curls around her shoulders. The wetter it got, the darker it turned until it was almost copper. She had dark eyes and rosy cheeks.

These were the kind that were the most fun to torture in Hell. He remembered how much fun it had been to break their optimism, to crush that smile. But up here, he could do nothing.

Strangely enough, he had no urge to do anything to her. For a split second, her gaze caught his and her smile froze, though it did not disappear.

The little dog ran out from under the bench. Getting between her and Blackheart, she growled as ferociously as a small dog could. The woman scooped her up. Deciding that he obviously didn't fit into her childish antics, she retreated down the sidewalk, walking a little faster than normal. The dog was still growling as they went around the corner out of sight.

He debated on following her. Then, he realized what he was thinking and asked himself why he wanted to follow her. She wasn't all that pretty. He doubted that she could or would help him.

"What happened to you? You get in a fight?"

He turned to see an older lady with glasses and dark hair. She wore an apron and looked like she worked in a restaurant. Before Blackheart could protest at all, he found himself being yanked inside. He said something very colorful when she started cleaning out a gash down the side of his face. Frowning, she held his chin with one hand.

"I know it hurts, Hun, but have some self-control!"

It wasn't until then that he remembered that infection could come if he didn't get these wounds cleaned out. With great difficulty, he clenched his jaw and tried not to yell any more curses. She was, after all, just trying to help.

_Since when did I care about that?_ he wondered. He internally cursed the soul he had. The soul knew its limits, although it had gotten less cautious about them as it had aged in its mortal life. Despite his own irritation, gratefulness began to seep through it although Blackheart wouldn't admit it. While she was patching him up, the woman was talking ninety-miles a minute about her children and grandchildren. She took a dish towel and scrubbed at his hair. Then, out of the blue, she asked, "You don't have a place to stay, do you?"

"No."

Right about then, his stomach gave a very loud rumble. She whisked him into the front part of the restaurant and he found himself sitting at the bar.

"Stay right there. I have an idea."

While she disappeared into the kitchen, he turned around and scanned the crowd. In the booth to his right, there was a family of five: a mother, a father, two little boys, and a baby. The dad was making goofy faces at the baby and the baby was chuckling and clapping her little hands together as though it were the greatest thing in the world. The mother was coloring with the two little boys, who had a coloring book and crayons spread out all over the table. They'd just gotten here. In the next one over, there was a teenage couple that appeared to be on a date. The girl had at least ten pounds of makeup on her already flawless face and the boy had braces and looked like a nervous wreck. They ate in nervous silence, watching each other very carefully. The next booth over had a group of women who looked to be twenty-something. They were all laughing hysterically at what a skinny woman with glasses had said about her boyfriend. At one of the tables, there was a group of grizzled-looking truckers with their plates piled in the center. They voiced their reluctance to be back on the road again and waited for the waitress to come and get the money. At another table, there was a group of guys that looked about Blackheart's age when he was in human form. Something about them struck Blackheart as a little "off", but his opinion was not confirmed until one with shaggy blonde hair winked at him. He immediately turned back around, not wanting to give the guy ideas.

_You touch me, I will kill you,_ he thought, suppressing a shudder. He'd seen "that kind" enter Hell before. Mephistopheles had never ever told him whether or not it was just because they preferred their own gender or if it was because they'd done something else wrong. The rules concerning that were very vague. Even though Blackheart had never been involved in a romantic relationship (the very idea made him laugh), he was pretty sure he preferred women.

He turned his head to look the other way. A young mother, probably not much older than thirteen or fourteen, was waddling towards one of the booths. Her belly said that she would probably deliver sometime soon. She looked very tired and sad. The girl's mother came in shortly afterward. He couldn't hear what was being said, but it sounded like they were arguing. They stopped just as a group of elderly people came in. It appeared that at least one of them was deaf and another one was getting senile because he was giving the waitress a hard time over something. When she walked away, obviously frustrated, the old man smiled. It had been an act.

He envied every single one of these people. They all had places to go and things to do. They all knew where they belonged. Though they were simply links in a very long chain, they at least were content to live that life. Some of them would make a point of changing fate, yes, but a majority of them were content to walk the path laid out before them by the Almighty Himself. Blackheart had only seen God once, and if he'd had a soul then, he was sure he would have been badly frightened. Even a demon like himself had a hard time comprehending such a being. Of course, he would have been scared only because God was angry when He appeared.

So...

What would his place be?

For the longest time, he'd been sure that he'd rule his own portion of Hell one day. He'd get the territory that came with the title. But now? What happened to demons that became mortal? He'd never even heard of such a thing happening.

He was pulled out of his trance when a plate was placed in front of him. It was then that he got a good look at the woman who'd bandaged him up: her name was Pam.

"I've fixed it up for you," she said, "you can stay upstairs until you get back on your feet, but you have to have a job by the end of the week. As much as I don't like giving ultimatums, times are hard right now with gas being as high as it is and driving up the price of everything else. I'll help you any way I can, but right now, I got to get back in the kitchen. Just go through that door over there and up the stairs."

Before he had a chance to say anything, she took off.

Two grilled pork chops, a scoop of mashed potatoes and green beans, and a fluffy bread roll later, Blackheart didn't feel quite as panicky about his destiny. Strange what a full belly would do to someone's mind... He ventured upstairs to see the place that Pam told him about. The door stuck a little bit and he had to push with his shoulder to get it open. Although the room was very clean, it had the air of something rarely used. An antique bed had been shoved into the corner and there was a small night table with it. There was a small table and chair in the other corner. Other than that, the room was pretty much empty. A frigid breeze suddenly blew through the room and drops of rain were hitting the floor from one of the windows that someone had left open. It took Blackheart pulling with both hands to get it shut. He was in reasonably good shape, but this place was so old that it was probably falling apart.

He looked down at the street below. A flash of white, red, and gold told him that the first mortal to see him was back again. The little wheat-colored dog trotted along beside her. From the looks of it, they were headed downstairs.

Blackheart crept down the stairs to keep them from creaking. Very carefully, he opened the door just enough that he could see. The blonde-haired woman came inside. Pam saw her and waved.

"Hey, pretty girl! Where have you been?"

"Work," she answered, "I just got off a little while ago. I am so tired."

She slumped into the nearest booth and ruffled Squishie's hair.

"So, what can I get you, Dawn?" Pam asked.

"I'll take some spaghetti and a glass of iced tea and Squishie will take a hamburger patty."

Blackheart assumed that "Squishie" was the dog.

"Alrighty. I'll be back with it in just a second."

Another one of the waitresses came over to see Dawn.

"Hey, Michelle! It's been too long, hasn't it?"

The other woman was Dawn's height, but much thinner. She had red hair and glasses and looked to be a few years older than Dawn.

"How's Adam and the kids?" Dawn asked.

"They're good. Rachael still talks about the time you taught her how to draw. She asks me all the time if you're going to come over. She calls you 'Mom's friend from college'."

Dawn chuckled.

"I'm off next weekend. Let's do something."

Michelle had to leave because more customers were coming in for dinner. The light was beginning to dim outside.

Blackheart was suddenly very tired. He went upstairs, wondering what his big curiosity was about that Dawn woman. Who cared about her and her dumb little dog?

When he closed the door behind him, a suitcase materialized in a puff of smoke on the bed. There was a note laying on top and he recognized his father's loopy script.

_Congratulations. I didn't think you had it in you to find a place to stay so quick. I guess you're not as much of a fool as I had you pegged for. In here are all the things you will need while you're on earth. It's up to you to get more. I can't tell you anything else because it's up to you to figure out. Oh, and be nice to the Dawn girl. You're going to need all the help you can get from her. Be careful of the dog, though. She's little, but she has a big set of teeth and Dawn is a force to be reckoned with if anything happens to it. _

He unzipped the suitcase to find all the standard things one would find while traveling: the bathroom items, a couple of changes of clothes, a cell phone, and a simple black wallet that had a few bills in it. There was also a driver's license, "so you can get a job," Mephisto had wrote. Blackheart moved the suitcase off of the bed and collapsed into a near-dead sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: All right, here's my third chapter

A/N: All right, here's my third chapter. Writing about a demon is a challenge sometimes: there might be a little out of characterness here and there, but I did the best I could. Hopefully I can get his attitude going a little better as I go.

Chapter 3

Three days passed. Blackheart was sitting in a coffee shop with yet another stack of job applications. No one seemed to want to hire him. He'd written the name down on his license: Daemon Shadows. He'd had three interviews and he'd only managed to tick all of the people asking the questions off. Things just weren't going that well. If he had to, he would move out of Pam's and into a cheap motel or something, but the money Mephisto had given him would only last so long. Everything around here seemed obscenely expensive.

"You call this a latte! You should be fired!"

Blackheart put down the pen he was holding with a frown. A snobby lady with diamonds glittering all over her was glaring at a waitress.

He realized that the waitress was none other than Dawn.

"What's wrong with it?" Dawn asked, puzzled. Squishie had been napping on the windowsill. Now, she was at Dawn's side and growling. Blackheart watched, arms folded.

_Don't just stand there and take it! Tell her she can take the diamonds and stick them up her-_

The thought was interrupted when Squishie jumped at the tiny poodle in the woman's chubby arms. Squishie tore after the frightened fluff ball, barking savagely. Dawn yelped at her to come back, but Squishie wasn't listening. As soon as they ran past Blackheart, he pounced on both of them with lightning fast reflexes. In the process of the chase, someone's cup of coffee had been spilled and was now pooling in the tiled floor. Dawn looked very frustrated and pressed her fingers to her temple as though she was getting a headache. As calmly as he could, he stepped toward the two women and handed them both their pets.

"That disgusting mutt!" The diamond lady snarled. Blackheart could see the anger boiling in Dawn's dark eyes. The lady was stroking her "traumatized precious baby" and saying nasty things about Dawn's dog.

"What is with you rich puffed up snobs and your frou-frou little dogs? I've eaten shrimp with more meat on them than that thing!" Dawn snarled.

Blackheart and the diamond lady both stared at her in surprise. Then, the diamond lady huffed away.

"Back on the windowsill, right now," Dawn said firmly to Squishie. She whined and skulked back up to her previous napping spot with her tail tucked between her legs. Dawn retrieved a mop and cleaned up the spilled coffee. Everyone else went back to eating, drinking, and talking.

"Why did you let her walk out of here like that?"

He was just as surprised as she was by the sudden question. Dawn's dark gaze went from the floor up to his face. It took a few seconds for recognition to show.

"Because this is my life," she sighed irritably, "if I got in a fight over everything, I would make even less than I do now."

She went back to the counter to retrieve someone else's order. It was midday and she already looked tired beyond belief. He thought that maybe it was dealing with rude people and not the physical requirements that were more tiring.

He noticed a sign in the window that he hadn't noticed until now: HELP WANTED.

Blackheart sensed he was being watched. He looked down to see Squishie staring a hole in him with her big, dark eyes. She tilted her head to the side as they studied each other. He took a job application off the counter.

"Whuff!" said Squishie.

He could have sworn she was telling him to get out, but it didn't matter. A dog was not going to give him orders. He took it back to his table and filled it out. He cringed when he felt something touch his leg. There was that damned dog again! He was tempted to dropkick her across the restaurant, but he saw Dawn watching him out of the corner of his eye. Cautiously, his hand inched towards her. When she didn't bite the crap out of him, he gently petted her on the head. Satisfied, she trotted off with her crooked tail wagging.

Deciding that she didn't have to do anything about him right now, Dawn went back filling orders. Blackheart left to go deliver the endless pile of applications.

_I thought dear old Dad's point was to hurt me, make me beg for his mercy. All he's doing is ticking me off,_ Blackheart thought irritably.

He was heading back towards Pam's place feeling aggravated and wishing he still had a couple of demonic powers just to make life easier when a familiar bark pierced the air. Squishie came bounding down the sidewalk in the dim evening light.

He didn't see Dawn anywhere. Curious as to what the dog was doing here without her, he stared at the ridiculously fluffy animal with his icy gaze. She sure was an annoying little creature! What did Dawn see in this thing, anyway?

The dog seemed to recognize him. She jumped at him, then ran around in circles while still barking obnoxiously. He was tempted to give her a good kick when she bit his leg and ran off. It worked. He chased after the little brat, prepared to dispose of her and give Dawn a piece of his mind. She danced around in front of an alley, then turned and growled savagely.

Then, all at once, Blackheart understood. The dog had been trying to get his attention and she'd wanted him to follow her. At the other end of the alley, two thugs had someone trapped in a corner. The someone was Dawn.

"Let her go," Blackheart ordered.

They did, but they went after him. A savage grin lit his face: Blackheart was always good for a fight. He lived for it. A nasty cracking sound echoed through the alley as he punched one in the jaw. That guy went down. The other one tried to pull a knife on him, but Blackheart was far too fast. He slammed his head into the wall, knocking him unconscious. After that, he picked the knife up, closed it, and stuck it in his pocket. That might come in handy later.

He noticed that both thugs had bruises and cuts on their faces. Evidently, Dawn had given them plenty of resistance. Unfortunately, they had also retaliated. A gash marred her pale skin on her shoulder. It looked as though one of them had been holding the knife to her throat and gashed her shoulder when she'd fought back. She was unconscious and laying awkwardly sprawled on her side. There was also blood coming from the back of her head. He didn't know how much other trauma she'd endured. Squishie went over to her unconscious master and whined. It was then that Blackheart truly faced his first challenge.

He had three choices. He could just leave her there. He could take her home. Or...

The darker side of him said he could simply add to it and she'd never know. She'd still think he was a hero for trying to save her.

No.

A sudden furious pain all over his body made him scratch that off the list. Having a soul was a pain in the butt. He missed being able to do whatever he wanted, no matter how morbid it was.

He felt around inside her pockets first. Luckily, she'd been paid today and the check had her address on it. It wasn't too far from here. As carefully as he possibly could, he lifted her up. He was surprised: Dawn was not a thin woman, but she was even heavier than she looked. It was a struggle to haul her off the sidewalk and into a comfortable position. He carried her cradle-style into the building, walked right past the doorman that was messing around on the computer, and up the stairs. It took more searching to find her keys, but he did.

_Why, WHY, am I bothering? I have no connection to her,_ he thought as he kicked the door closed once Squishie was inside, _she's just a random person on the street that was lucky I didn't kill her on a whim, or that damn dog. If she ever bites me again, I swear I'll tear her to shreds very slowly so that she'll howl the entire time I do it..._

He hissed in pain and almost dropped Dawn when the searing pain scorched his body again. Apparently, malicious thoughts were going to be a literal sore spot for him. With some difficulty, he staggered into Dawn's bedroom and lay her down on the bed. Then, he locked the door.

Squishie got up on the bed and kissed Dawn's face. When she didn't respond, Squishie began to whine and cry in a way that was very pitiful.

"Shut up! I can't concentrate with all that noise!" Blackheart snapped. Squishie retreated to the farthest corner of the bed, tail between her legs.

He checked Dawn over for broken bones. There were none, but there were some nasty cuts and bruises. He cleaned them all out as best as he could, then bandaged them up. While checking for other injuries, he had to undress her. Knowing she would likely freak out if she woke up only in her underclothes, he searched for something that wouldn't be too hard to get on her. Pants of any kind were definitely out of the question. He finally found a black nightgown and pulled it over her head. Then, he moved her so that she wouldn't wake up cramped and pulled the covers over her. All the while, he was asking himself why.

Blackheart sat on the edge of the bed for a second, staring at the deep red covers. Everytime he thought something negative about Dawn, it felt as though he were being consumed by flames. He wondered why she affected him so much and other people didn't.

He looked back at her pale, oval-shaped face. She wasn't all that pretty. He'd seen many women enter Hell that were much better looking than she was. He'd seen earthly women that were better looking than she was. She was pale, chubby, and plain. But there was something about her...

He shook his head, trying to will that thought away. What was so different? She'd live for about sixty more years and she'd return to earth, this pale, curvy body turning back to dust. Maybe she had a shot at Heaven, who knew?

Maybe it was better if they weren't around each other too much. Content that her master was taken care of, Squishie curled up next to her side and sighed heavily for such a little dog. Blackheart got up, satisfied that his work here was done. He was beyond tired and he knew he couldn't stay here.

He noticed an electric guitar lying on the couch. He noticed paintings on the walls that bore her signature. Despite her absolute plainness, she _did_ have talent. He locked the door from the inside and closed it behind him.

It absolutely bothered him for some strange reason when he remembered the blood coming out of Dawn's injuries. Until this point, blood had been a way of life, a sign that he'd been doing something right. To watch it drain out of someone's body, especially when it had been his doing, seemed so perfect. To feel it literally freeze as he touched his victims had also felt right. But to see Dawn laying on the ground in a filthy alley where the majority of the contents were garbage cans and high school boys with nothing better to do than mug people made him feel slightly ill.

_I hate this damn soul_, he thought bitterly, _it's making me all pity and sympathy when I've got better things to worry about such as where I'm going to stay and where my next meal is coming from. Thank you, Dad, _he added sarcastically.

To his absolute frustration and irritation, he hoped she would be all right.

That night, he didn't sleep worth a damn. Her face kept haunting him. He remembered his pale fingertips brushing her gold hair out of her face as he'd bandaged her up and wondered what it would be like to touch her while she was awake. The thought made his heart beat faster and he cursed internally.

_What is wrong with me?_ he wondered, _It must be this stupid soul. I must be feeling weird because of it. _

As he stretched out on the bed, he looked down at his own body. It seemed so strange and frightening to finally have a spirit. He was feeling things that were foreign to him. In Hell, there hadn't been such a thing as love. He'd watched several couples split up as one had been taken to Heaven and the other sucked into Hell through the gates, but he'd just thought it was funny. He wondered what on earth would cause the Heaven-bound one to hang onto their doomed partner for as long as they could.

He was all too keenly aware that love was a human emotion and that he was now human, but he vowed he'd never go down that road. Before long, his eyes closed and he drifted into a fitful sleep. Unfortunately, humans also dream and he was about to find that out the hard way.

_He was tearing down the sidewalk. He could feel Dawn's presence, but he couldn't see her. He knew she was in deep trouble because the burning in his chest told him so. It felt like a hot bullet, but at least it wasn't stinging so bad that he couldn't move. The two thugs that had come after her were now back and they had their friends with them. Upon seeing him, they just laughed._

_"Well if it ain't Hellboy," one of them jeered, "I hope you didn't come to get your girlfriend because it's too late."_

_He stepped aside to reveal Dawn and Squishie laying on the sidewalk. They were completely motionless. The dog was whimpering, so she might live. Dawn, however, was a different story. Someone had slit her all the way up her stomach to her neck. An ugly dark red gash revealed things that were never meant to be seen. Blackheart instantly felt very sick. The whine of a siren scared the little bastards off, but Blackheart knew that the cop car was chasing someone else and hadn't seen them. He knelt next to Dawn and pressed a finger to her neck, feeling for a pulse. There was none. Of course there wouldn't be; there was blood pooling on the sidewalk. Shivering, he lifted her off the sidewalk and held the motionless body for a moment. Her flesh was already starting to grow cold and stiff. _

_For the first time in his life, he was truly afraid and he didn't know why. Then, a blinding light shone in his face and he was forced to bury his face in Dawn's curly hair to get away from it. He knew he should run, but he was paralyzed. As the cops yanked him away from the motionless figure, he objected that he hadn't done it; he'd just gotten here. But they didn't believe him. _

_"Not so tough are you?"_

_It was his father. His father was driving the cop car. Blackheart's features twisted into a glare._

_"You had something to do with this, I know you did!" he shouted._

_Mephistopheles merely smiled._

_"Maybe."_

_Blackheart launched himself over the backseat. He was cuffed, but he didn't care. His father warded off the attack easily._

_"Now that you've learned your lesson, it's time to go home."_

_Right then, it was as though the car was being swallowed up by the earth._

Blackheart woke up with a start. The day was stormy and cool. It took a second for his thundering heart to slow down. He realized that his cell phone was ringing and flipped it open.

"This is Jake Yorke from the Expresso Corner coffee shop," a raspy male voice said, "we had a lot of applicants for a job here, but I heard a lot about you from Dawn Stevens. Be here tomorrow morning at nine. I hope for your sake that you're as good as she says you are."

At first, he wanted to give the guy a piece of his mind for being so demanding, but another emotion topped the irritation he felt. This one, he was familiar with. It was pride.

_She got you a job,_ he thought, _maybe it was worth putting up with that ratty thing she calls a dog and hauling her out of that alley. _

Even though he didn't look forward to the work that much, Blackheart knew that it was a small victory nonetheless.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: All right…

A/N: All right….Here's what I know everyone's been waiting for—Blackheart at work! HAHAHA. evil grins I'm still trying really hard to keep him in character, but it's a little hard, especially when I know the end and you don't. Any suggestions for his behavior in general would help as long as they're not flames.

Chapter 4...1 Week Later

Since Pam found out that Blackheart now had a job, she agreed that he could stay there until he got his own place. He and Dawn saw each other a lot, but they were often so busy that neither had time to say much to the other. He despised the tacky matching outfits that they all had to wear (red T-shirts, black pants, and sometimes black half-aprons that had pockets in them for the pencils, notebooks, and so forth), but at least he didn't feel so defenseless against the mortal world. His job was primarily running the cash register since he didn't yet know how to cook. Once he'd watched Dawn make the coffee, he also got the to-go orders on occasion.

Jake Yorke was the biggest pain in the butt he'd ever encountered. Apparently unimpressed by Blackheart's "attitude", he spent the first couple of days breathing down the demon's neck. Once Blackheart proved that he would (however much he internally despised the job) do the work without being constantly checked on, Yorke would go bother someone else.

Clearly, the only hold that Yorke seemed to have over his employees was money. He was a fat, geeky-looking man with horn-rimmed glasses, greasy hair, and ruddy complexion. He had a raspy, wheezy voice and always carried an inhaler around with him. He would flush even more scarlet at the slightest bit of female attention.

Blackheart would just roll his eyes when he wasn't looking. To keep himself from wanting to strangle Yorke, he would watch everyone else. Despite his sometimes lofty, egotistical attitude, Blackheart was learning a lot.

He learned that one's girlfriend did not appreciate it if the guy looked at another woman right in front of her. That revelation made him chuckle. He learned that it was not a good idea to feed Squishie too many French fries even when she begged. Enough said. He learned that being flirtatious with single women earned him better tips and to watch out for wedding rings or tan lines where the rings normally were. It didn't take him long to learn how to figure up the change in his head and he got very fast at it.

Dawn did different jobs on different days. Sometimes she was in the back making coffee or food, sometimes she was the waitress. She seemed to prefer the cooking job more because she had an old transistor radio in the back that she could crank up while at the grill. The other waitress, Linda, was cranky and antisocial, but she got her job done. Dawn and Linda swapped jobs every other day.

Blackheart watched Dawn very carefully the first day he was there. She'd been walking with a bad limp, but it got much less pronounced with each day that passed. Soon, she didn't limp at all. She hadn't really said anything to him, but he saw the gratitude in her dark eyes. Much to his annoyance, Squishie seemed to recognize that he'd saved her master's life and was now hanging around him.

Everything seemed to get routine very fast. At first, the strong smell of coffee sickened him slightly, but he got used to it. Dawn would often experiment with different flavorings and have everyone try a sip. If Yorke liked the idea, he would put it as a special on the chalkboard. She also experimented with desserts, which would explain why she was a little heavy. She also came up with oddball names for them, such as "blondies" for a white chocolate brownie since it was more of a tan. Before the shop opened, she would take her time rearranging things in the display case into elaborate designs. Blackheart supposed it was the artist in her. She would also sketch whatever item was on the specials board.

He was getting ready to fill a particularly difficult order when two familiar faces came into the shop. His heart almost stopped beating for a moment.

It was the pair of thugs that attacked Dawn.

She was in the middle of taking someone's order when Blackheart grabbed her and pulled her back into the kitchen. She sent him a furious glare, but he held her pinned against his side as they stalked past, missing the two figures that were hiding in the corner. When they decided that there was no one of importance there, they left.

He felt Dawn stiffen and saw the color drain out of her face. He didn't realize he'd been holding one of her hands until she squeezed his, then let go. Without a word, she went back outside to finish taking the order of the now confused and irritated customers.

Blackheart wondered why on earth they wanted to keep pestering Dawn. Was it because of him? He hoped not.

The thought struck him as strange. Why did he care? He spent a great deal of his day trying to figure that out, but he couldn't come up with an answer. At closing time, Dawn muttered something that sounded like "thanks for earlier", grabbed Squishie, and took off. Apparently, it wasn't any easier for her to deal with this than it was for him.

_Forget about her, _he thought sourly, _she's nothing but trouble. She better not get me dragged into this. I don't have time to keep defending her._

He scrubbed at a sticky spot on the counter because everytime he rested his arm there, whatever unknown substance would bother him. Then, he made his way back to Pam's.

Pam said something to him, but it didn't register. She had to tap him on the shoulder to get his attention.

"What?" he snapped.

Pam raised an eyebrow.

"I just thought I would ask how your day was," she repeated, "you seem like the weight of the world's on your mind."

Blackheart resisted the temptation to laugh. Dawn was heavy, but she definitely wasn't that heavy.

"Daemon, you know you can trust me," Pam pressed.

"Just another day. People working dead-end jobs looking for the fix that gets them through the rest of the day, people paying twice as much as the coffee's probably worth, and little kids running around knocking things over," he said sourly, "nothing unusual."

An expression he couldn't read crossed Pam's face.

"I don't suppose this has to do with Dawn, does it?"

Blackheart was going to shake his head when she came in. So much for an escape.

"Hi, Pam," she said crisply, despite looking like the walking dead. Then, she paused, mid-stride and her gaze locked with Blackheart's.

"Hi, Daemon," she said uneasily.

Pam was grinning ear-to-ear despite the awkwardness. Blackheart would have gladly gone another hundred years without having to talk to her. And as usual, that annoying little dog was right there with her.

"Be right back, I got customers waiting," Pam said quickly before taking off. Squishie stood in front of Dawn protectively, but she wasn't growling, at least. In his opinion, the dumb little thing wasn't even big enough to defend herself, much less Dawn.

There was one thing that he absolutely had to know despite the strangeness that seemed to be between them.

"Why did you get me the job?"

Her dark eyes went to the floor for a moment before she looked back up at him.

"Why did you get me out of the alley?"

Good answer.

Good question.

His intense stare told her he didn't know. Her uncomfortable shift said that she didn't know either.

He wanted to yell at her to get the Hell out of his life, now that he actually had one in the mortal sense. He wanted to tell her and her stupid dog to get as far away from him as was possible.

But his mouth wouldn't move.

Neither did hers. But having had all the awkwardness she could stand, Dawn inched backwards, not turning her back on him until she was close to the door. Something about that small gesture made him mad, but he couldn't figure out why.

_If I were going to kill you, which would probably make my life considerably easier, I would have done it by now,_ he thought irritably.

Pam didn't bother asking where Dawn was. As usual, he ate by himself and went upstairs. Despite the fact that other beings normally irritated the Hell out of him, he found himself missing Ramar, his constant companion in Hell. Ramar looked a lot like a dragon when he was in his natural form with black skin and glowing red eyes. He was about five or six times bigger than Blackheart and was a force to be reckoned with. As Blackheart was figuring out his powers in his earlier existence, Ramar would spar with him because he was one of the few that could take it without really seriously getting injured. Ramar also shared his sarcastic sense of humor and the two of them regularly played jokes on the demon guards for their own amusement. He missed having a friend. The Hidden had been an okay bunch, but they still did things that irritated him. How smart does one have to be to dodge the damn Ghost Rider's chain, anyway?

He watched Dawn leave down below. She must have felt him looking down at her because she looked up. Whether she actually saw him was unclear.

The next day, everyone seemed to be in a crappy mood, especially him. It didn't help that Dawn had kitchen duty and her radio was turned up. He gave the cup he was holding to the old man that was muttering something about "young people these days" and went to get the next order from her when he stopped for a second.

He listened to her. She was singing along with the radio.

She was actually quite good. He wondered what on earth she was doing working in a place like this when she should be onstage somewhere. Most human music sounded weird and irritating to him, but her voice wasn't that way.

_Not again,_ he reminded himself, _just get the damn coffee, take the damn money, and get the Hell out of here._

But as hard as he was trying, he couldn't block it out. It was all he could do just to pretend nothing was going on. There was something almost supernatural about Dawn's singing. It made him wonder how such a sound could come from someone as plain-looking as she was. It pulled at his new soul, caressing it and enchanting it.

Suddenly, he realized that she wasn't human. No human sounded like that. There was only one thing that she could possibly be:

_Great, just perfect, _he thought irritably, _she's a damned Siren. That's all I need right now..._

Sirens were once a powerful species. Contrary to popular belief, they weren't all females. There had once been males, too, and they'd all lived on an island in the middle of the ocean. He couldn't remember how the rest of the myth went, but he knew that they had wings in their natural forms and their ethereal voices could bend the opposite gender to their will quite easily. He couldn't remember exactly what had happened to them, as he hadn't been around when it did, but he knew that they'd been forced to take on human forms and they never told their children what they were. Part of him wanted to yell at Dawn in frustration because she had no earthly idea what power she possessed.

Dawn abruptly stopped when she noticed Blackheart's intense gaze focused on her through the window. She stared back at him.

"What?"

She sounded a little annoyed. Good. It meant she had more of a spine than he'd given her credit for.

He turned back around. He wasn't quite ready to tell her yet.

Then, something happened that he'd never dreamed of.

A familiar figure walked through the door. He recognized the black shaggy hair, tanned skin, and the haunted eyes at once.

Johnny Blaze.

_Crap!_

Luckily, Blaze didn't seem interested in coffee. Or him. He was talking to some guy about motorcycle parts. Apparently, Linda had already taken his order because she was bringing their food to them. He hoped that Linda would just get the money. Blackheart felt as though his heart was pounding in his ears and wanted nothing more than to just take off running and never look back.

_Out of all of these accursed emotions, I hate fear the worst!_ he thought.

"I take it you two know each other?"

The question was so sudden that it made him jump. Dawn was right behind him, her arms folded over the sill of the small window.

"I know that expression. You two had some sort of a fight, didn't you?"

Blackheart wondered why she was all of a sudden talking to him. The sudden growth of a spine disturbed him, especially about this subject.

"So what?" he asked irritably.

For the first time, their gazes locked and she didn't look away.

"You show up out of nowhere and you look like someone's beat the Hell out of you. You look at everyone around you like they're beneath you. And it takes nothing to tick you off. I know a past when I see one."

Blackheart's expression darkened.

"Congratulations," he said, his tone drenched in sarcasm.

"I'm not staying here forever," Dawn said, almost talking more to herself than him, "I've been taking night classes for psychology and I'm graduating soon. I've got four months left on my sentence."

Before he could say something really insensitive or sarcastic, she disappeared back into the kitchen.

Blackheart wondered what on earth had just happened. And for reasons completely unknown to him, he couldn't suppress a grin.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Chapter 5

A/N: All right, chapter 5 up. I wished I was getting more reviews, but I appreciate all the ones that have become regulars on here. (hugs). Anyway, here we see our favorite demon getting a little more social (although that's totally against his will). Have fun.

Sunday was the only day that the coffee shop was closed. Blackheart was grateful that there was at least one day of the week when he didn't have to be around so many people. Minimum wage didn't pay a whole lot, but it was at least more than he'd had. Now, he needed to work on getting out of Pam's place. He was grateful for her letting him stay there, but he didn't like having to depend on other people. Today, he was trying to find a place to live where he wasn't likely to get shot, stabbed, robbed, or go into debt. So far, the apartments were either too expensive or he had to worry about being killed in his sleep. His search took him through the park.

"Squishie! Hey! We're playing fetch, remember?"

Blackheart suppressed a curse as the familiar little wheat-colored dog went tearing across the grass, a bright red ball clutched in her mouth. Dawn was a few paces away, shaking her head.

"You goofy dog! Get back here!"

It took her a minute to wrestle the ball out of the dog's mouth. Squishie scratched at her legs, hardly containing her excitement over the chewed-up ball. Dawn threw it again and off she went. The wind blew her short, curly hair back from her face. With her well-worn black T-shirt and beat-up old jeans and bare feet, she looked like a child. Her black ballet flats had been discarded a few feet away. She looked up to see Blackheart, who was inwardly cursing his luck.

"Oh, look, it's the resident demon," she laughed.

Blackheart felt his adrenaline glands kick and he stared at her hard, trying to figure out just how much she knew. Cold fear iced over his veins and the anger wasn't intense enough to thaw it out.

"I'm only kidding," she laughed, seeing his face, "are you still living at Pam's?"

"Unfortunately," he mumbled.

"Oh, she's not that bad. She's just never had kids of her own to mother on," Dawn explained, "I take it you're trying to find a place of your own?"

_How does she do that?_

"You can always go down Blossom Street to Castlewood," she said as Squishie came back, "they're fairly cheap and they actually have locks that work."

It was difficult as Hell, but he choked out "thank you" before taking off. When he'd gotten far enough, he turned to look back at Dawn. She was shrieking with laughter at Squishie, who was now chasing another dog around. He shook his head and went the other way. That girl was much too easily amused.

It took a little while to get there. He decided that some form of transportation was going to be the next thing on the list. The summer heat was still baking hot and sweat was trickling down his forehead by the time he reached the place Dawn had been talking about.

Castlewood was three stories high. It was a plain brown brick building, but the owner had attempted to spruce it up with flowerbeds overflowing with brightly colored pansies. There were several children's toys outside some of the doors.

_I hope I don't get one next to a bunch of kids._

From what he'd seen, human children were loud, unruly, and annoying. He had no desire to be around them.

The manager was a middle-aged woman with red hair and glasses. She wore a blue outfit and seemed tired beyond belief. She also looked down her nose as though she thought Blackheart wasn't good enough for this place.

"Well, this seems to be your lucky day," she sniffed, "we've had a client evicted about a month ago and he never came to retrieve his things, so you can have his place and whatever's there that you want. Rent is due at the first of the month, no excuses."

She tossed the key onto the counter and went chasing after a kid that was throwing water balloons at people who were coming in.

Blackheart took the key and wandered off.

The first thing he noticed was that the door seemed to stick. He pressed his shoulder against it and managed to get it open. Then, he could only stare.

It looked as though the last occupant of this place had just had a wild party. There were beer cans and bottles everywhere. The place reeked of alcohol and old food. Furniture had been tipped over in places. The barrier that had made the door hard to open was an overturned recliner. The only thing in here that didn't look like it had been touched was a shelf full of books.

The kitchen was by far the worst room in terms of cleanliness. Blackheart was no neat freak by far, but the smell would kill him if he had to deal with it too much more. It made his breakfast rise in his throat a little bit.

Then, a familiar scent caught his nose. The smell of sin was thick around the bedroom. He opened that door.

Immediately, he could tell why. The covers on the bed were twisted and half-off the bed. He could detect the scent of the former occupant and four or five different women. He smirked as he wondered if they had all been here in the same night.

It took all day to get the disgusting stuff out. There were about five or six trash-bags full of beer bottles and cans and bad food. He left the windows open while he was working so that the place would air out. He was tired by the time he decided to spend one more night at Pam's and knew this wouldn't help with work in the morning. Luckily, Pam was too busy to see him come in and he didn't have to talk to her.

Morning, as always, came too soon. He groaned slightly when the alarm on his cell phone, but forced himself to get up anyway. At least he had his new place to look forward to when work was over. It would be nice to have a place to go where he could have some privacy.

He got there just as "rush hour" as Dawn had affectionately named it started. Waves of zombie-like people who were just as tired as he was came forward. He couldn't fill the cups fast enough although he was getting better. Linda was working the grill today, so Dawn was running around like crazy taking orders to people. She didn't seem to feel very good, but she pushed herself anyway. He noticed that she was pale in the face.

Then, a familiar scent caught his trained nose. Wafting through the crowds, the scent of sin came to him. When she passed him again, he inhaled deeply and an image came to his mind.

_He was kneeling to pet Squishie. He realized that he was seeing the world through Dawn's eyes instead of his own. It felt strange to be in a female body. _

_Then, the two thugs closed in. The familiar fear and recognition of them flooded him. He tried to run, but they captured him. One of them held a knife to her throat, the other one raped her. He was pinned helplessly against the wall as the assailant slammed into him over and over, causing his womb to scream in pain. Tears fell thickly, but he said nothing. It had happened before and it would happen again, he knew. Then, through his own eyes, he saw himself approaching the alley after Squishie had ran off. He saw himself smacking first one in the jaw, then the other just before he blacked out._

It wasn't Dawn's sin he was smelling. It was her attacker's. Apparently, they knew each other. And now, she was pregnant and she didn't know.

That made him cringe for some strange reason. It hadn't been her fault, but he wondered why on earth she hadn't gone to the hospital to take care of it. He'd heard of women having abortions before and they weren't condemned for it if they had a good reason, such as health problems. The laws on that had been unclear as well.

He noticed that she was disappearing a lot. She was probably having morning sickness. He didn't know why, but he started taking the orders out to the customers while she was gone. When Dawn returned, she was surprised to find that most of the customers had already been served. Despite the strange tension that always existed between them, she gave him a grateful smile and he found himself returning it for some odd reason.

Right then, a note appeared on the counter. He recognized his father's scratchy writing immediately.

_Congratulations, kid. You thought of someone else before yourself. I'm impressed._

_P.S. Watch out for Blaze. Here he comes._

His expression darkened slightly as Blaze came in the door. He hoped that Dawn would take Blaze's order.

Blaze sat down at one of the tables. Dawn went over to him with the little notepad in her hand. Blaze looked up and smiled. Blackheart scowled when Dawn's face flushed slightly. He wondered what the Ghost Rider had said to make Dawn beam so much. She wrote down his order and laughed at something else he said. Squishie also seemed to take to Blaze and he was now scratching behind her ears.

Dawn came back towards the kitchen. Blackheart couldn't suppress a smirk as she filled one cup with jelly beans.

_What kind of a pansy eats jelly beans out of a martini glass, anyway? He's not that tough,_ Blackheart thought, remembering Blaze's old habit. The other cup was coffee laced with a variety of flavorings. Blaze seemed determined to become a diabetic.

She went back over to Blaze and gave him his coffee and jelly beans. He gestured to the chair beside him, but Dawn shook her head. Judging by her movements, she was telling him that she had work to do. Blaze seemed to be asking her another question. Dawn seemed uncertain as to the answer of that one. She seemed to be saying "I'll think about it".

Catching Blackheart's soured gaze, she looked up at him on her way back to get the other drinks.

"What?" she asked, genuinely confused.

He said nothing.

A grin slowly began creeping across Dawn's features and for some reason, it really, really annoyed him.

"Daemon, are you jealous?"

"No," he said a little too abruptly.

Dawn got the other tray of drinks and took them to table seven. Blaze was munching away at his candy and had his nose buried in some book. Squishie was laying in his lap as though the world was complete there. As much as Blackheart didn't care for Squishie, he wondered why she seemed to like Blaze better.

He got preoccupied with dealing with an irate bratty teenager who insisted that she _had _to have everything low fat and sugar free. He wanted to tell her that she looked like Hell anyway because all of her ribs were sticking out and what was she so worried about? The world had better problems to deal with than her issues. But, he couldn't. Yorke was watching. After finally giving her the drink she wanted and feeling his blood pressure boil, he was putting the lid on when Blaze appeared at the counter. He passed the girl her cup and she walked off in a huff.

Turquoise eyes hardened by loss and time met icy steel-blue eyes. Blackheart could have sworn that time absolutely stopped in that moment. He could have also sworn that his heart stopped beating for a moment.

"You look familiar," Blaze commented, "do I know you?"

Blackheart shook his head. Ordinarily, he would have hurled a load of insults at Blaze, but he was a little terrified at the thought of fighting him with no powers. He struggled to think of a nice white lie that would throw Blaze off of his trail, but he didn't have to. Blaze merely dropped the money on the counter and left.

Blackheart let out a breath that he hadn't even realized that he'd been holding. Sweat had popped out on his forehead and his legs suddenly felt like water.

"What's going on?"

He jumped. Dawn was right beside him, having seemingly come out of nowhere.

"Don't do that," he snapped as he put the money in the drawer, "it's never a good idea to sneak up on me."

Dawn's impish grin got on his nerves.

"Don't you have some tables to clear?" he asked irritably.

"Touchy," Dawn mumbled, walking away.

He watched her. After that encounter with Blaze, she was walking differently. Her back was straighter and her head wasn't drooping so much. It made him want to throw up.

_Closing time cannot possibly come fast enough,_ he thought.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Chapter 6

A/N: Sorry for such a long pause. Blame it on class, homework, writer's block, and illness all at one time. Hope it was worth the wait!

Chapter 6

Blackheart arrived at his new apartment just as night was beginning to fall. The first thing he did was step in the shower and scrub the coffee smell off as best as he could. The old sheets had been tossed out and new ones put on the bed, so it was definitely more inviting. He spent a couple of hours going through more stuff that he'd decided to get rid of, then flopped face-first into it. It felt good to not hear the noise of the restaurant anywhere around him and his eyes didn't take long to close.

But her face lingered there in his mind's eye, like it had since the day he'd first met her. He was too tired to even groan, so he let sleep sweep him away into a dream.

_Dawn was sitting on a park bench, Squishie at her side as usual. Her belly had grown huge over the months, adding to her curvaceous figure. She had her chin resting in one hand, looking very lost. Curious as to what she was thinking about, he came closer._

_"What am I going to do now? My life is over before it started," Dawn sighed, "I've finished school, but no one's going to hire a single mother. My job at the coffee shop isn't going to support both of us."_

_He didn't know what to say. She looked so sad and it just wasn't like her. He sat down beside her and wrapped one arm around her shoulders, although he mentally chewed himself out for doing it. She leaned in to his awkward touch. _

Upon waking, he didn't remember the dream, fortunately. It was nice to be here in the morning instead of Pam's. Despite so many years of constantly hearing screams and noises of torture, he actually didn't mind those things being gone. In fact, as much as he hated to admit it, he was getting used to the routine. He knew exactly what to do and where to go, so his actions became almost automatic.

Upon entering the coffee shop, he was greeted by a very hyper Squishie. She kept jumping up at his leg as though she had springs in her butt. Then, she ran around in circles. Dawn shook her head as she continued to sketch a plate of cookies on the chalkboard.

"Squishie somehow got into the coffee," she said without looking up, "she's going to be wound up the rest of the day."

First, she ran one direction. Then, she ran the other way. The tiled floor was too slick for the little rat, so she couldn't stop fast enough and skidded into a table leg. Squishie simply sat there for a moment, dazed, then she shook her head and was off again. Blackheart couldn't resist a chuckle. He'd never seen anything move like that before.

Dawn finished the sketch of cookies. They looked very realistic for being chalk.

"Why are you wasting your time in a place like this?" he couldn't help but ask. Dawn turned, surprised.

"I could ask you the same thing," she replied before going back into the kitchen.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," he mumbled. He heard the static of the radio and Dawn's singing started as soon as she got a clear signal.

_She should be on a stage somewhere, not in this dump,_ Blackheart thought. He suddenly had an idea and went to go talk to their less-than-desirable manager.

It took him a good half hour to wear the idiot down, but he finally agreed to it when Blackheart said it was likely that Dawn would bring in more money. That was the easy part. Now, however, he still had to talk Dawn into it and he knew that she was far more stubborn.

He wasn't sure what he was expecting, but he definitely didn't expect her to grab him by the front of his shirt and slam him into the wall.

"What the Hell gives you the right to do that?! The least you could have done was ask me first!" she snarled.

_I sure hope it's the pregnancy hormones and not how she usually is,_ he thought.

"I'm trying to help you," he said, trying to pull loose from her supernaturally tight grip.

"Sure you are," Dawn snapped, shoving him away, "just like all the other men in my life have 'tried to help me'. I'm not a trophy, you know!"

"You're right," he said quickly, "you're much more than that."

He said it before he even felt the words forming at the base of his tongue. Dawn stared at him, shocked.

"I still don't believe you," she stuttered before turning back to the grill. Her hand landed on her slightly swollen stomach.

_Finally! I was wondering how soon she was going to find that out,_ he thought.

"Fine. Don't believe me. But you know yourself that your talent's being wasted back here," he said, walking away.

Dawn stared after him. Since he'd found her unconscious in the alley, he'd been acting really strange. It was as though he was trying to be more protective of her. She appreciated it, but it sometimes drove her nuts.

Her nasty mood lifted when she saw that one of their customers was Johnny Blaze. He was older, yes, but she'd taken a liking to him. Sometimes she was sure he liked her back. Even though Linda was waitressing today, Dawn made a point of bringing Blaze's food out to him. Blackheart scowled from behind the counter.

He heard Blaze extend a dinner invitation and that was the last straw. Stalking towards them, he mumbled something to Dawn about being needed in the kitchen. Glaring at him suspiciously, she obeyed, but tossed Blaze a bright, blushing smile over her shoulder. As soon as the door closed, she gave him a searing Look.

"What?!" she snapped.

"Of all the guys on earth, what would you want with him? He's been in and out of jail a bunch of times!"

Blackheart hadn't been lying; Johnny was often in and out of jail when his Ghost rider powers got the better of him.

"Big deal," Dawn snorted, "I'm sure you're no saint, either. By the way, why do you care about who I go out with? You couldn't stand me the second you met me."

Part of that was true, he hated to admit it.

"I'm the only one who knows what you're capable of," he said through partially gritted teeth.

Dawn's arm twitched and he thought she was going to smack him for a minute. She didn't however, and instead took her aggression on a hamburger she'd started frying. She pressed it to the grill with far more force than was necessary. It sizzled sinisterly.

"Don't talk about me like that," she snapped, "I'm not a retarded school kid who needs someone baby-sitting her every move."

"Does he know you're pregnant?" Blackheart shot back, his own aggression rising in him as well.

A few people turned their heads towards the kitchen. This time, Dawn did smack him. He staggered backward into the wall, his right cheek burning.

"Could you say that a little louder, please? I don't think they heard you in China!" she hissed.

Blackheart's hand gingerly touched his cheek. Dawn's eyes filled with tears.

"I'm so sorry," she apologized quickly, "I've just been under so much pressure lately and-" she paused to flip the meat over before it burned, but she never continued. Blackheart had the strangest urge to embrace her. At first, he fought it. Then, he realized he couldn't. Dawn felt warm and solid in his arms. He got a face full of blonde hair and couldn't help but admit that she smelled good. He thought she was going to start bawling, but she quickly recomposed herself and went back to her job.

Blackheart splashed his face with cold water to take the sting out of his skin. He wondered why in the world he'd just hugged Dawn when she'd hit him. Under normal circumstances, he'd have already killed her whether there was a baby or not.

For her sake, he hoped his little plan worked out.

About fifteen minutes before closing, Dawn gave Blackheart a Look as she approached the microphone stand that Yorke had set out. The music started and Dawn began to sing. Everyone's heads raised, but then they all got a dreamlike look on their faces. They were thoroughly entranced, and rightfully so. Even Squishie was listening intently with her head tilted to the side, one ear up and one ear down. When the song was over, the place burst into applause. Yorke had placed a tip jar by the door and it filled rapidly as the customers began to file out. They had made at least two hundred dollars extra. York divided out the money, of course, taking the biggest share. However, he gave equal shares to Dawn, Linda, and Blackheart. Dawn stared at the bills placed in her hand and her cheeks flushed guiltily when she saw Blackheart's grin.

"Dawn, you'll have to perform at least three times a week now," York sneered, his fat hands clutching the money, "think of all the money we could bring in now."

Dawn sighed. She looked irritated, but she slipped Blackheart a look of gratitude anyway. Then, she left.

He stared after her.

Women made no sense.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

A/N: I know, I know. It took me forever to write this. Lack of inspiration, tons of work, illness, and the like have taken a toll on my creativity. I was suffering from severe writer's block. I hope you guys aren't giving up on me because I'm still working on this. Please send reviews!

Chapter 7

After Dawn began to sing, the income of the coffee shop nearly tripled. Dawn's belly began to expand over the weeks. It was clear that Blaze knew she was with child, yet they were still dating. Blackheart and Dawn had entered an uneasy truce for the moment. They did spend some time outside of work together, but they always carefully chose their topics of discussion. Dawn was getting increasingly anxious about her baby, however, and it was through that anxiety that the wall between them finally broke down. The first incident was when Dawn fainted at work.

She'd been getting ready to retrieve a tray of coffee cups when she suddenly turned gray and fell over. Blackheart stopped right in the middle of filling one of the coffee cups and ran over to her. Carefully, he turned her over. Dawn's eyelids fluttered.

"What happened?" she choked out.

"You passed out," he said, carefully easing her into a sitting position, "maybe you should go home."

"I can't," she sighed, "I can't afford it."

"You have to," he insisted.

"You don't understand," Dawn protested, "I haven't had enough to pay the rent this month because my landlord raised it. Pam can't let me stay with her because she's got things going on."

"Then you can stay with me."

Dawn stared at him, open-mouthed.

"I couldn't-"

He cut her off with a raised hand.

"I mean it."

Dawn slowly eased herself to her feet and went to sit down and recover her strength. Blackheart knew the crap was about to hit the fan when Yorke approached her.

"You're more trouble than you're worth, you know that? We're losing male customers because of your big belly!"

"I can't help that," Dawn snarled.

Squishie stepped between Dawn and Yorke, snarling defensively.

"You know what? It will be a blessing to not work under you anymore," Dawn said, scooping Squishie up, "I've hated your guts from the minute I applied here. I'm tired of you always making passes at me. I'm out of here."

She turned to Blackheart.

"I need some help packing up."

Then, she left.

Yorke stared Blackheart down, daring him to say something. Ordinarily, Blackheart would have punched the man across the room. If he'd had his demonic powers, he'd have frozen him.

_I need this lousy job. I have to support Dawn now. Wait-how in the Hell did I get into this mess?_

He simply went back to filling orders and knew he'd have to get a better job if he wanted to help Dawn.

He sighed. It was hard enough to get _this_ job.

As if that weren't bad enough, a note from his father appeared on the counter when Yorke went back to his office.

_Congratulations. You learned to care for somebody other than yourself. When your shift is over, go and help Dawn pack. Then, when you get her moved in, there will be an application for a job that even you couldn't mess up._

_PS._

_Watch out for Blaze. I think he's beginning to suspect something._

Blackheart crammed the note into his pocket just as none other than Johnny Blaze himself approached the counter. The two locked eyes for a moment.

"I could swear I know you," Blaze muttered, "you look so familiar."

Blackheart chuckled nervously.

"I get that a lot," he said uneasily.

"Daemon. That's a really unusual name."

Blackheart busied himself with straightening a stack of cups. He wished Blaze would leave him alone.

"You're good friends with Dawn, right?"

Blackheart resisted the urge to smack his forehead.

"Yeah, I guess."

"Nothing more?"

Blackheart felt a strange pang in his gut.

"Why?" he asked, his voice hardening slightly.

"Because you know her better than I probably do. Who's baby is she carrying?"

_Yikes! Where did that come from?_

"Why don't you ask her?"

It was getting harder to control himself. He could tell that Blaze was baiting him, testing him.

Blaze's gaze hardened and Blackheart's stomach went cold as the Arctic. The steely glint of recognition suddenly graced his features.

"Who knew?" He suddenly began to laugh, a rough, maddening laugh.

Blackheart stared, not knowing if he should attack Blaze, run, or play dumb.

"The son of the devil works in a coffee shop!" Blaze held onto the counter now, trying to recompose himself.

"I knew I'd recognized those eyes from somewhere. What happened? Did Daddy cut off your inheritance?"

Blackheart's gaze soured.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

It was too late. The anger had flickered across his features briefly, but Blaze had seen it.

"He did, didn't he? That means I could kill you, you sorry son of a bitch!"

Blackheart backed away out of instinct as Blaze's anger took over.

"You took everything from me! You and your sorry father! I lost my dad, my friends, and the one person I ever loved because of YOU!"

The other customers were beginning to stare.

"It's not my fault that my father sent you after me," Blackheart retorted, "he obviously didn't feel he had the strength to do it himself. Do yourself a favor, Blaze. Get the Hell out of my life and get the Hell out of Dawn's. And just in case you forgot, I had nothing to do with the contract you signed with my father. Blaming me for this crap isn't going to make your life any better."

Blaze could only stare in disbelief. The little runt had matured a lot...he could still see the cool demeanor of the demon there, but he could see a difference in his eyes. They were somehow older. And there was something else.

"No powers, huh? You finally made him that mad?"

Blackheart saw no point in lying. Slowly, the other customers went back to their eating, drinking, and chatting.

"Yes. I've been made human. If you kill me, you'll actually be doing me a favor."

"Not so easy, is it?"

Blaze chuckled uneasily. He and Blackheart sized each other up for a moment. Seeing that he could tear through Blackheart like a wet paper sack, he decided against doing anything. The Ghost Rider in him could sense the lack of demonic power, therefore he was no longer a threat.

"Who's kid?" he asked again.

The last of the customers meandered out and Blackheart turned the "OPEN" sign to "CLOSED".

"I don't know. She was raped in an alley. She didn't want to hurt the kid. I don't know if she plans on keeping it or not."

Something in Blaze's hardened, suspicious features softened slightly.

"You care about her."

Blackheart was putting the chairs upside down on the tables so that Linda could mop the floor. His back was turned to Blaze, so the Ghost Rider didn't see Blackheart's face twitch violently.

Yes. He did. In his own twisted way, he admitted deep down that he was attracted to Dawn.

"That's what I thought."

Blaze left.

Blackheart watched his retreating leather jacket, the bile rising in his throat. What on earth had just happened? His legs felt like water and the coffee shop suddenly seemed too small and too stuffy. He gratefully left, embracing the fresh cool air. He'd thought for sure he was going to be road kill when Blaze had finally figured out who he was. The realization of just how close he'd come made him break out into a sweat. Slightly dizzy, he made his way to Dawn's apartment. Maybe helping her would make him forget. He couldn't believe how quickly things had changed.

Images he never thought he'd see danced in his head. He suddenly had the desire to take Dawn into his arms and...

And what?

The question was quickly answered when he saw a young couple sitting on a bench. The man had taken the woman's hand in his and was kissing her rather passionately. There was a flush on both of their cheeks. He continued to walk, feeling a little guilty and not knowing why. The image of Dawn pressed close to his body in a tight embrace was enough to bring a slight sheen of color to his pale cheeks. The thought of her rosy red lips against his own stirred a strange heat in his abdomen. Emotions he didn't know he possessed flickered to life at the base of his brain. Desires, both good and sinful, rose with them. By the time he entered the familiar building, he was feeling decidedly strange. Shoving all that to the back of his mind, he drew a deep breath and knocked on the door. Squishie's noisy bark followed by footsteps confirmed that Dawn was home and she was on her way.

"Hey."

Dawn looked worse than he'd ever seen her. Her eyes were red from crying and she looked very disheveled and exhausted.

"What happened?"

Before Blackheart had even quite formed the second word, she'd buried her face in his shoulder.

"Johnny broke up with me. He said he just didn't think he was the right one for me."

Blackheart's strong arms wrapped around her waist. He could feel her swollen abdomen against his own stomach and a fluttering sensation got his attention. Dawn smiled faintly at his surprise.

"The baby kicked."

She took his hand and placed it over the curve of her belly. He felt another jiggle beneath her warm skin.

"I haven't asked for the gender of it yet. I'm going to ask tomorrow."

As they moved the last of the boxes out, Blackheart was deep in thought. Really, the thought fascinated him. There were two souls in one body. There would be a tiny life in a couple of months, wiggling, moving, and breathing in its own small body. And right now, Dawn was keeping it safe. He'd never really been around any babies because it was impossible for a baby to be sent to Hell.

"Thanks for helping me," Dawn panted, flopping over on the couch, "I'm so tired."

Squishie jumped up on the couch beside her master and gave her a consoling lick. Dawn rubbed behind her ears and kissed her on her forehead.

"I love you, Squishie," she mumbled, "at least I know you don't blame me for anything that's happened."

The radio was on. Blackheart was trying to figure out sleeping arrangements when a love song began to play. Dawn picked Squishie up and started dancing in little circles with her. After Squishie had decided that she'd had enough, Dawn put her down.

How she ended up dancing with him, she did not know. She wasn't even aware of it until his face inched closer and closer to hers. She could feel his breath mingling with hers. The air between them felt charged with electricity.

Slowly, his mouth descended upon hers. Instinctively, her arms tightened around him. He returned the pressure. His actions questioned her and she gave him permission to deepen the kiss. Squishie jealously scratched at both their legs, nipping at them to try and get their attention. Ignoring the dog, they broke the kiss. Dark earthen brown eyes met cool, icy blue.

"I think we just ruined our friendship," Dawn commented breathlessly.

"You think too much anyway."

He kissed her again, the curiosity and the passion growing.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

A/N: It's been a long time since I updated, I know, but I won't bore you with the details as to why it took that long. One of the reasons was that I had a terrible case of writer's block when it came to this story. But Christmas vacation has helped me clear some of that out of the way and I have a new chapter for you guys. Sorry that it took such a crazily long time. I hope you guys didn't give up on me!

It turned out that Blackheart had a very good head for numbers and was needed to run a computer at a computer business. He would be one of the accountants there. It took him a little while to get the hang of the system, but it wasn't bad. And he didn't have to interact with very many people.

Dawn was at her obstetrics appointment while he was at work. Assuring him that there was no need for him to go, she'd walked the short distance down the road to the doctor's office. The obstetrician had a private practice, so it was a small building. There were plenty of other women there, some with problems and others, like her, with large bellies. Dawn quietly picked up a magazine after she signed in.

_I wonder why Daemon seems to be so protective of me,_ she thought, _he hasn't left my side in a long time. And it's odd, but I feel like he knows more about me than he lets on. It's almost like he knew I'd be here. It's almost like he's from another world...._

There were a lot of things that made him seem like a paranormal being. He seemed to know what she needed before she said. He seemed to possess an otherworldly strength...and those eyes....

She hated to admit it, but he had the most beautiful eyes she'd ever seen. She loved his eyes. They were so icy, but they were...like winter skies. Their friendship had rapidly grown over the months and she was beginning to trust him.

She thought of the kiss that they'd shared last night. Without protest, she'd laid down on the couch and wouldn't go to sleep in his bed. He'd reluctantly gone to his own room. That morning, she'd fried eggs and bacon for both of them and they'd eaten in awkward silence. Once the kitchen was cleaned up and dishes washed, they'd gone their separate ways.

Would they ever be close like that? Would he be willing to take on a pregnant woman, then her child? Would he actually be willing to help her?

"Dawn?" the nurse called.

She closed her magazine and got up. A few seconds later, the doctor had rubbed the slick stuff on her belly and was running the ultrasound machine.

"Well, the baby looks pretty good," she said, "two arms, two legs, no problems that I can see. Would you like to know the gender now? You haven't ever asked what it was."

"Yeah," Dawn gave in, "tell me."

"It's a girl."

Dawn smiled. Images of little pink tennis shoes were running through her mind. She could only hope that this baby ended up looking like her.

"Thanks."

She came out of the office feeling as though a weight had been lifted off her chest. She only hoped that nothing would go wrong during the delivery. She was already fairly close; another couple of months would bring the answer.

After walking back to the apartment, Dawn straightened a few things up and dusted a little bit. She stretched out onto the couch and flipped on the TV. For a long time, she didn't see anything that interested her. Then, she came across some old movie. She started to watch it, but she fell asleep.

Blackheart came home while she was still out. Something about her made him smile, but he couldn't figure out what it was. Maybe it was that big belly--even though Dawn was definitely not a lightweight, the round curve of the belly was starting to dwarf the rest of her figure. It was going to be a big baby. Her curls softly framed her oval-shaped face. He brought a blanket and covered her up. Then, he sat down beside her and channel-surfed, letting his mind wander.

His new job had been much less taxing on his patience and the pay was three times as much as it had been at the coffee shop. Unless something really went wrong, he, Dawn, and the baby should have a pretty good life together.

A load of nervousness filled his stomach. Blackheart realized he had no clue how to take care of a baby. Dawn was fairly easy--everything she needed, she could either get herself or ask for. Hopefully, Dawn would know what she was doing.

He wondered exactly how long they were going to be together. He wasn't objecting to it, but what did mortal couples do, exactly? He had so many questions. And further, how long could he keep the secret from Dawn that he wasn't exactly born human? Blackheart knew he was going to have to tell her sooner or later, but she'd never believe him. The truth was beginning to sound pretty bizarre even to him.

Dawn's head tilted over and landed on his shoulder. Instinctively, he moved closer to her. Very lightly, he kissed her forehead. Having her this close felt good.

After about a half-hour, she stirred awake. Her face was still pale from sleep as her presence slowly reentered her body. She stretched, then rubbed her eyes.

"How was work?" she asked, her voice still deep and husky from sleep.

"Better than working for Yorke," he said, putting the remote control down, "I might actually like this job."

Dawn gave him a half-smile.

"Doctor says that the baby's going to be a girl," she said, placing one hand over her belly, "I just hope she looks like me. I have no idea what I'm going to name her."

Her stomach rumbled and she got up and went to the kitchen.

"I didn't think I was that bad for a pregnant lady, but apparently, I am," she said, examining the nearly-empty refrigerator. Blackheart just laughed.

A few minutes later, they were sitting at the table with Chinese food. Dawn broke her cookie open first.

"It says 'You will get everything you ever hoped for'," she read aloud.

Ironically enough, his said the same thing.

"Did you know that the Chinese introduced fortune cookies to the public as American food? Everybody thinks fortune cookies are Chinese, but they're not," Dawn told him.

"No wonder they're all so thin," Blackheart said, shaking his head, "chopsticks are a pain."

Dawn giggled.

"I was in a Chinese place with my friends once and there was this little boy learning how to use chopsticks. He picked up this little meatball-looking thing and held it up to show his mom. Well, he squeezed a little too hard and that thing went zinging across the room and landed in some old guy's drink. We were all laughing so hard we couldn't eat anything else for fear of choking to death. It was hilarious."

He wished that he did have a memory to share with Dawn, but most of them were so bizarre that she'd never believe him. He knew that Dawn was beginning to wonder about his past.

"What about you? You never mention stuff that happened to you," Dawn said, gathering up the empty cartons.

"There's not much to tell," Blackheart said reluctantly, "you'd be better off not knowing my past."

She paused to give him a very serious look.

"Trust me," he said.

Dawn tossed the cartons into the garbage and the table was clear.

"Come on," she said, "I've told you almost everything."

He didn't know how to say it. Finally, his mind began knitting together a very carefully edited version of things.

"Well, I wasn't born into the most conventional family," he said, "my mother was never in the picture. I didn't know her. My father was rich and had a lot of power. He liked to gamble, though, and make outrageous deals with people. I thought he was a retard for it. I told him one of these days he was going to make a serious mistake. Well, I got tired of waiting around. He had a special...ah...inheritance put away for me, but I was tired of waiting on it. I went after the contract, needless to say there was a lot that came with it. Whoever had the contract had the most power. It would have made me...richer than my dad. Well, my dad sent one of his...bodyguards after me and we got into a huge fight. I got knocked on my butt, needless to say, and I lost everything. My father and I never got along very well in the first place. The next thing I knew, I woke up in the desert and ended up here. After I first saw you, I'd just walked into town."

"They left you in the desert? That's horrible," Dawn frowned, "what kind of a father does that?"

Blackheart wanted to laugh, but resisted.

"I probably deserved worse than that," he said, "every mess I've ever gotten myself into was because I got greedy."

Dawn shrugged.

"Well, we're all human. We've all done really dumb things. But, think about it. If you didn't end up in the middle of nowhere, you and I might never have met."

_Sometimes I think it would have been better for you that we hadn't, _he thought.

There was genuine trust in Dawn's eyes, something he rarely ever saw unless she was looking at Squishie. He was just beginning to wonder where the little rat was when she started jumping on both of them.

"You jealous little thing," Dawn scolded her playfully, "cut that out!"

"Whuff," Squishie huffed, walking away.

"So, was there ever a time that you and your dad got along?" Dawn asked.

He shook his head.

"Not particularly," he said, "he knows where I am, but he doesn't have much to do with me other than that. He said I'd have to try and make it on my own for a while before I get everything I lost back."

Dawn was silent.

"So, when you get back to your big and rich lifestyle, are you going to leave me?"

It was a loaded question. Six months ago, he could have truthfully said he would. But now, he was unsure. The uncertainty was not a good feeling.

"No," he said finally, "I'm not going to leave you."

He had no idea how he was going to be a Prince of Hell and be with Dawn. The innocence of the baby would surely be compromised. And the horrors of Hell would surely take their toll on Dawn. Suddenly, the title he had once held didn't seem very attractive.

It wasn't much, he realized as Dawn's arms tightened around him, but it was home. This little apartment with Dawn and Squishie and her baby was something he'd come by himself. He and Dawn were becoming a team. She had been shy about kissing him the first time, but now, her lips boldly claimed his. Heat rose up in his abdomen. He felt gooseflesh rise up on Dawn's arms where he touched her. The intensity of the feeling was almost too much.

Breathing heavily, they pulled away from each other.

"I hope you're staying," Dawn choked out, "because I love you."

Blackheart suddenly felt as though the room was spinning. He found himself unable to get up from the chair he'd been sitting in. A strange feeling spread through him, one that nearly brought him to tears.

He couldn't ever recall someone telling him that they loved him. To his knowledge, demons could not feel love. Love was reserved for humans, angels, and God.

Though he did not know what love was, the soul he'd been given did. It was in that moment that he realized that he loved her, too. They didn't know each other terribly well, but they'd both come through some very hard things together. It was a bond that had come over time.

He opened his mouth to say something, but Dawn placed a finger against his lips.

"Shhh," she whispered, "don't say it unless you really, really mean it."

She went into the bathroom and closed the door. Moments later, he could hear the tub running and the radio playing. It was Dawn's favorite evening ritual.

He sat at the table with his head in his hands. A puff of smoke startled him and none other than Mephisto appeared.

"What do you want?" Blackheart snapped. Mephisto was grinning from ear to ear.

"I came to tell you that I'm actually surprised you got this far," he said, "and you're not dead yet. I'm surprised a woman like Dawn would fall in love with a monster like you. And to think you actually snatched her away from Johnny Blaze."

"It wasn't like that," Blackheart said defensively, "she and I were only friends until a little while ago."

Mephisto laughed again.

"So, are you ready to come back yet? Get that soul out of you? I imagine it's been a right pain, making you feel so much."

Neither of them noticed Dawn standing in the doorway of the bathroom with her robe on.

"I can't," Blackheart said, "Dawn needs me...and...I need her."

Mephisto had to hang onto a nearby chair to keep from falling. His laughter filled the room.

"You forget, Hellboy, you've got a job to do. Sooner or later, Dawn's going to die and you're going to have to come back. You'll have what, fifty, sixty years? Maybe seventy if you're lucky? It's going to be a lot harder to let her go when the time comes."

"I'll take my chances," Blackheart said, his voice flat with anger, "in the meantime, get out."

It was then that Mephisto spotted Dawn in the doorway.

"You must be the father I've heard so much about," she said, trying to hide the shakiness in her voice.

He tilted his head to acknowledge her existence.

"You could bring her with you, you know," he told Blackheart, "we could use a Siren down there."

Blackheart stepped in front of Dawn.

"No. She's staying here and so am I."

Instead of coming up with a coy reply, Mephisto simply disappeared.

Dawn was shaking, but she was shaking with anger.

"What the Hell was that all about?"

Blackheart laughed bitterly.

"I think you just answered your own question."

"Why didn't you tell me?!" Dawn snapped.

"Would you have believed me?" he asked, his own defenses rising.

"Probably not."

"Okay, then."

Dawn sagged down into a nearby chair.

"So, if you're the son of the Devil himself, what do you want with a mortal woman and her dog and an unborn child?" Dawn demanded.

"I was put up here to learn how to be human," Blackheart said weakly, "I didn't count on meeting you. It just happened. And...I'd much rather stay up here with you. Maybe it's the soul that my Dad stuck in me, but I've decided I don't want to go back."

Dawn's expression was softening, but her eyes were still hard.

"So, if you're such a demonic being, why were you so careful with me? Aren't you supposed to be Mr. Temptation?"

Blackheart suddenly felt more frustration than he ever thought was possible.

"You helped me. I wanted to help you in return," he said irritably, "which meant nothing bad was to happen to you. You're making this more complicated than it needs to be."

Dawn turned away from him, arms crossed over her chest. He felt guilty for upsetting her. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, wishing he could erase the last five minutes from her memory.

"Did you mean it when you said you wouldn't go back because you wanted to stay with me?" she asked.

He could hear the tears in her voice though they hadn't surfaced yet.

"Yes, I did," he said firmly, "and I will."

She wrapped her arms around him. He felt her tears, hot and wet, on his neck.

"Shhh," he whispered, "it's going to be okay."

For the first time he could ever remember, he prayed that they would be and he could have sworn someone up there heard him.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Two or three days passed and Dawn was distant. Blackheart didn't press the issue, knowing somehow that she would come to him when she was ready. The moment came one stormy night after he came home from work.

Dawn looked like an angel or ghost in her white nightgown. Squishie was asleep on the couch and didn't even move for the time being. She was in another one of her odd positions with her head hanging off edge. She seemed to be much less aggravating now that Blackheart wasn't a threat to her precious master. There was something else going on though…there appeared to be a sheen of sweat on her forehead and her dark eyes were glassy and dull. He was about to ask what was wrong when she spoke.

"I've been thinking," Dawn said, ignoring the rainwater that dripped everywhere, "and I believe you. If you say you don't want to go back, then I'll trust you. I'd follow you to the ends of the earth if you wanted me to."

He jumped, startled when something moved against him. Dawn laughed.

"Junior says hi."

Since Dawn didn't want to know the sex of the baby until birth, they had taken to calling the child "Junior".

"I also wanted to tell you that my contractions are five minutes apart and we need to get going."

Right on cue, her fingers squeezed into his shoulders as the spasm burned through her body.

"Why didn't you call me at work?" he asked. Dawn grunted, then held on to him, panting raggedly.

"I did. The bitch of a secretary wouldn't connect me. The weather was awful and I was afraid to get out in it. The labor came on so quickly…"

"Let's go," he said quickly, helping her get into her shoes and coat. Squishie woke up and whimpered.

"Stay here," he told her, "they won't let you in."

Squishie whined pathetically, but did as she was told.

Moments later, they were at the hospital.

"The baby's in distress," the doctor informed Blackheart, "the cord's wrapped around its neck. We'll have to do a Cesarean Section on her."

"A _what?_" Blackheart asked, his heart thundering in his throat.

"Just put these on and follow me. I'll explain it in a second."

The doctor shook his head.

"I can't believe these kids today…what are they teaching in school?"

Blackheart fought the wave of resentment and pulled on the scrubs over his clothing. Dawn was biting a corner of her pillow to stifle her whimpers of pain. They were in the operating room within a few seconds. After a confusing few minutes where nurses and doctors rushed around and grabbed instruments that looked remarkably like torture devices, everything was ready.

"Now…we're taking the baby out through the abdominal wall so it won't get strangled," the doctor told him, "it's not normal, but it's safer for the baby and for the mother in this case."

Dawn held his hand and gave him a strained smile. Blackheart stared back at her, blue eyes actually holding some fear and concern.

"Don't worry, sweetie. I can't feel anything. They gave me that shot."

It was the first term of endearment she had ever used on him. He cringed at the wet sound the knife made cutting through her skin. A line of blood appeared and his stomach twisted. As they opened her up, Blackheart had to turn his head. Blood, gore, and guts had never been a problem for him before, but now…

"Here it comes," the doctor said cheerfully," and…there. You have a daughter."

A shrill cry escaped the infant's lungs. Blackheart turned his head and his face twitched. What in God's name was _that_? It was tiny, squirmy, and covered in goo! Ick!

One of the nurses began to clean the layer of goo off. Pink skin appeared underneath. The doctor finished up what he was doing and cut the cord loose. The nurse sealed the end of the cord and finished cleaning the little girl up while the doctor sewed Dawn's incision closed.

"Here you go, Dad," the nurse said, giving Blackheart the baby.

With the goo all cleaned off, the baby didn't look disgusting now. She was small and pink and was still warm from Dawn's body. Her eyes opened for a moment and he could see that they were a very dark blue.

"They'll probably change color when she gets older," Dawn told him, "most fair-skinned babies have blue eyes when they're born."

The little one was still gasping and crying and he wasn't sure what to do, so he lay her on Dawn's chest.

"Hi little one…" she whispered, "my sweet little treasure."

"Treasure," he echoed, touching the little hand.

Surprise shot through his soul as the tiny hand gripped his. There was amazing strength in those little fingers…

Maybe she wasn't a creepy little sack of flesh after all. He knew he had a lot to learn, but somehow he didn't mind it.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Yes, I know…fickle muses and college exams do not a good match make. Sorry this took so long…I had to get my imagination unstuck from writer's block.

"Am I back in Hell?" Blackheart wondered out loud.

Newborn babies sure were demanding…the crying all the time was new to him. After a while, he hated that sound and would go scrambling around trying to get it to stop. Squishie wasn't helping any; if she sensed that he was angry, she wouldn't let him near the baby.

"I'm not going to hurt Treasure," Blackheart growled back at her one day. Squishie moved, but she never took her dark eyes off of him.

After changing Treasure's wet diaper, the baby calmed down immediately and he breathed a sigh of relief.

"Why does she _cry_ so _much_?" Blackheart asked Dawn, who had just emerged from the bathroom.

"That's the only way she knows how to tell us she wants something," Dawn informed him, "she'll learn to talk a little bit later."

Dawn was tired too, but she didn't complain. Blackheart couldn't help but smile smugly; if she'd met him before he was given a soul, she'd really have a hard time with the image of him holding a baby. It was hard to believe that these hands that had tortured souls in the most brutal way possible could be so gentle.

"Other than the sleep deprivation," Dawn said, almost reading his mind, "do you like being a father?"

He wasn't sure. At first, he said yes. Then he said no. Then he said there were parts he liked and parts he didn't.

"Understandable," Dawn said empathetically. She heated up Treasure's bottle and took the baby to the couch to feed her. Squishie scratched Blackheart's leg.

"Don't you know how to ask nicely?" he asked the dog sarcastically. He chuckled when she sat up on her hind legs and begged.

"Okay, there's no way you're really just a dog," he teased, dumping some dog food into her bowl.

"Sometimes I think she's smarter than I am," Dawn admitted.

"So…beef or chicken?"

He held up two frozen dinners.

"Both."

"Both it is."

He still couldn't cook worth a crap, but he could microwave things. Dawn didn't complain at all, though she was looking forward to having real food. After Treasure burped, Dawn lay her in her crib while they ate their own dinners at the kitchen table.

"I hope he doesn't come back," she said suddenly.

"Who?"

He knew perfectly well who she was talking about, but he was in denial at the moment.

"You know…your dad," Dawn sighed, "I keep thinking he's going to pop out of nowhere and do something bad to us."

Blackheart stared guiltily at the plastic tray, half-eaten in front of him.

"It's silly, I know…I just had this awful nightmare last night that he tried to take my baby. It's probably just my out-of-whack hormones," she said dismissively. She hadn't meant to make him feel bad.

"Sometimes I feel the same way," he admitted, putting his hand over hers, "but I'll do the best I can to keep him away."

It was good enough. Dawn squeezed his hand and went back to eating.

The rest of the evening was quiet, though there was a tension in the air. Dawn fell asleep during a movie with her head laying against Blackheart's shoulder. When Treasure cried, she stirred with a mumble.

"I'll get it," he whispered. She shifted to let him up, then sagged back against the couch without ever opening her eyes.

He lifted the baby out of her crib.

"What do you want, little girl?" he asked her. Then—

"Goodness…I'll be glad when you're potty-trained."

He stripped the sodden diaper away and wiped her off. He had just fastened the clean diaper closed when a familiar dark presence washed over the room.

"What do you want?" he asked without turning around.

"I don't get the privilege of seeing the newest addition to the family?" Mephisto's voice was coy. Blackheart snapped the baby's jumper closed and turned to face him.

"Oh…she's a beauty," the older man commented, "what a blessing that Siren blood only grows stronger and doesn't get diluted with generations."

He stroked the infant's cheek. Her eyes were open and she lay still, staring blankly. She wouldn't be able to see clearly until she was a little older, but it was as if she knew…

"Dawn doesn't like you being here," Blackheart said calmly and quietly, "I'd appreciate it if you'd just go before she wakes up."

Mephisto chuckled.

"Awfully ungracious of you, especially after I gave you this little family. I could take it away just like that."

He snapped his finger on the word _that._

"What do you want?" Blackheart asked a little more sharply this time. He cradled Treasure in his arms protectively and hoped that the infant's whimpers wouldn't turn into full-on cries again.

"Now you sound like you again. I want the Sirens," Mephisto said finally, "they'd be very valuable to all of us. Of course, we'd have to train the little one…the longer they train, the better the voice. She could be even better than her mother."

Blackheart stared.

"Dawn would never agree to that," he protested, "she wouldn't want this baby near Hell and I don't want either one of them near Hell. There's too much innocence in their souls for that."

"Innocence is easily stolen," Mephisto commented, "remember that."

He disappeared in a puff of rotten-smelling smoke. Dawn, coughing and gagging, emerged in the doorway.

"That sleazy son-of-a…"

She held her arms out for Treasure and Blackheart handed her over. Cradling the upset Treasure against her chest, Dawn sighed.

"Why can't he leave us alone! I won't let him have my baby!"

"Easy…" Blackheart sighed, "he's not getting either one of you. I told you I won't let him."

"But he's the effing Devil! How do I know?" Dawn demanded.

Blackheart placed his hand on her cheek so that she would look into his eyes. Squishie scratched on both their legs.

"I'm not sure," he told her, "but there _is_ one person more powerful than my dad."

Dawn nodded.

Her eyes followed his to the drawing of Jesus Christ that she had drawn one day while Treasure had been taking a nap.

"Well?" she asked.

"The question is does he listen to people like me," Blackheart said, half-heartedly joking.


	11. Chapter 11

Blackheart didn't know what he was expecting, but the knock on the door startled him. Dawn and Treasure were both finally asleep. He got up from the place he'd been kneeling and grunted against the stiffness. Cautiously, he unlocked the door.

The figure was cloaked, so he couldn't see its face at first. Tanned fingers drew back the hood.

"Blackheart," the voice addressed him.

Blackheart was unsure what to do, so he tipped his head forward in acknowledgement. The dark eyes studied him with an intensity that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. It was as though the man could see straight past his mortal exterior and straight into his soul. He felt like one of those plastic anatomy dolls where the guts were showing.

"You came awfully fast," Blackheart said awkwardly.

"Of course…I go to those who ask. Sometimes even those who don't."

Blackheart gestured to the bedroom.

"I suppose you know why I called you here, too," he mumbled.

"Yes. You want Dawn and Treasure protected from your father."

"That's it."

"You aren't afraid of him?"

"Not really. I lived without a soul for thousands of years. I can do it again."

"You won't feel anything afterwards, though. No love."

That was a little disconcerting.

"I won't love Dawn?"

"Not if he steals your soul."

That seriously bothered him.

"What do we need to do?" Blackheart finally asked.

Jesus leaned against the doorframe, examining the sleeping woman, baby, and dog.

"You've done a great deal already…I think it's quite brave that the son of Lucifer himself could shelve his pride and call to me. You obviously know a lot more about loving someone than you think you do."

That surprised Blackheart a little.

"I see it," Jesus said, looking straight at his heart, "that you're willing to give your life to save theirs."

He looked back up into Blackheart's eyes.

"You will have a very difficult trial to face," he warned, "but keep in mind that I and my Father are with you. We will never leave you behind."

Blackheart nodded. Jesus walked across the room, pausing to look at Dawn's drawing.

"You're not at all what I expected," Blackheart confessed.

Jesus looked up, an amused grin on his face.

"What _did_ you expect? Snowy white skin? A halo? A man who looks like a model? Hardly…"

He held his hands up so that Blackheart could see the scars.

"I appear in whatever form I'm seen in by the person," he explained, "to some people, I exist as a vapor, a faceless mist. To some, I appear as a man. Sometimes I even appear as a woman or even as a child. There was almost a literal component to the words 'what you do to the least of these you have done to me'."

"So…you have the power to appear to people, so why don't you just make yourself public? I mean…why appear so distant? The world's struggling," Blackheart said, growing braver.

"Because there is a time and a place for everything," Jesus replied smoothly, "and it's not up to me, it's up to my Father. 'Blessed are those who have not seen and still believe'. Sometimes people _have_ seen me and they don't even know who they're looking at. They're too skeptical, too hardened."

"So…why appear to me?" Blackheart pushed.

"You're in a very unusual situation…to you, your father, the Devil, as some call him, is a very real, very tangible presence and a very real threat. I also appeared human to you so that you would also see me as tangible."

Blackheart's hand reached towards him and brushed his fingers against Jesus's shoulder. Sure enough, he was solid.

"What about Dawn? Can she see you?"

"Dawn _has_ seen me multiple times. I've been to the coffee shop before when she was feeling particularly stressed out. Sometimes we talked, sometimes I was just a sympathetic ear. Sometimes she got a little testy with me because I told her the truth and not what she wanted to hear. Pam also knows me, though she may not realize it."

Blackheart chuckled.

"So…who would have thought? The son of God likes a good cup of coffee," he teased.

"Did you think I only ate bread and drank wine?"

Blackheart was sorry to see him go. Jesus was far from the insufferable character that his father had made him out to be. He was extremely blunt, but not in a way that made you want to beat him up for it. He also, surprisingly, had a sense of humor, which Blackheart would have never suspected. Though it was awkward having _the_ Jesus in his living room at first, Blackheart found that he rather enjoyed his company.

"Don't be afraid to trust my Father," was the last thing Jesus had told him before he left.

Blackheart undressed and lay down next to Dawn. The bed shook with her silent laughter.

"You little weasel," he teased, "you were awake the entire time, weren't you?"

"Yes."

"Why didn't you say something?"

"I don't know."

Blackheart just laughed and cuddled up close to her.

"I was wondering…I know this sounds really odd under the circumstances, but I know it's the right thing to do…would you marry me?"


	12. Chapter 12

They had a small private ceremony. It made Blackheart uneasy to be inside the church, but he didn't say a word. Dawn's dress was simple and she wore no veil. The baby was asleep in her carrier through most of the day. Under the circumstances, she asked that Treasure be baptized, too.

Blackheart watched as the baby was dipped under the water. She yawned and stretched in the pastor's arms. The pastor was a kind man whose hair had just started to turn gray. It had once been black. He had kind dark eyes and his presence put Blackheart more at ease.

He didn't press, didn't ask Dawn why her dark eyes were troubled though she was happy as well. Dawn gently dried Treasure off and redressed her. For the baptism, the infant was put in a simple white gown. Now, she wore a pink party dress with a flowered headband. She seemed unusually placid the entire time.

A very tangible voice spoke inside Blackheart's head: _listen to your heart._

Moments later, he emerged from the water himself. Dawn watched, misty-eyed. A shape had appeared in the shadows of an unlit hallway of the church. The presence there was kind, she knew.

And her smile warmed.

They didn't say a word to each other on the way home, but his hand clasped in hers told her that he was risking his neck for her…his soul quite literally.

Then, Treasure began to cry.

Dawn lifted the baby out of her carrier.

"What is it?" she murmured, "What's the matter, baby?"

Blackheart stared at his daughter. Though her DNA didn't include his, he thought of her as his.

"That was some stunt you pulled," a dark voice commented, "getting married and baptized in the same day."

Dawn was silent. Her face paled and she clutched Treasure close to her chest.

"I expected you to learn a lesson or two," Mephisto remarked, "but I never expected you to go native. Maybe putting that soul in you worked a little too well."

Dawn staggered backward away from the very presence of Hell. Blackheart stood between them. Squishie barked noisily and growled.

"Leave them alone. They're innocent," Blackheart said firmly.

"Yes. So they are…you've done a good job playing house. Now it's time to come home."

The three of them vanished in a wisp of smoke. The confused dog sat down on the sidewalk. Pointing her muzzle skyward, she howled up to the clear blue field above her.

…..

They reappeared in what Dawn could only guess was Hell. Some things did not surprise her, such as the flames or pits of lava. Some things _did_ surprise her such as the creatures walking around and the areas of snow and cold. What frightened her the most was the fact that her baby was in this place.

She held onto a wailing Treasure more tightly, unwilling to let her guard down for even a moment. Blackheart stared at his father with a fury that was unmatched.

"It's just like I expected," Mephisto remarked, "the prodigal son doesn't want to come home. Let's just take that burden off, then."

"No!" Dawn gasped as Mephisto's hand plunged into Blackheart's chest. A swirling ball of colors appeared in Mephisto's hand. Blackheart stared blankly at it before he passed out.

"And now, my dear, we have work to do."

The swirling ball of color was encased in an ancient-looking ornate glass bottle and shoved into the pouch on Mephisto's belt.

"Cooperate with me and I'll give him back his soul. If you don't cooperate with me, I'll destroy it. Really tick me off and you lose your baby as well. Understand?"

Dawn swallowed hard. Despite the heat of this place, she was sweating coldly.

"Well?" he pressed.

Dawn managed a nod. She knelt next to the unconscious Blackheart and kissed his cheek.

"He'll be fine," Mephisto said dismissively, "just a little different."

He snapped his fingers. Two armored guards appeared.

"Take him to his room and lock the door."

They obeyed quickly.

He snapped his fingers a second time. A woman appeared in a shower of red sparks. Though her upper body was distinctly human, the lower half was that of a bird. Two scarlet red wings fluttered behind her back. She stared blankly at Dawn with inhumanly bright blue eyes. Her long black hair floated around her as if some unfelt wind billowed through it.

"Take extra good care of that baby," Mephisto demanded, "if anything happens to the kid…well, you already know."

"Yes, Master."

With an effortlessness that alarmed Dawn, she wrestled the baby out of Dawn's arms. Dawn fought, but an unseen force threw her backwards. She cried out in protest as her squalling infant howled in equal displeasure.

"You don't need the distractions of motherhood," Mephisto said coolly, "this will all be over with soon, anyway. Come with me."

Dusting the ashes off of her once beautiful dress, Dawn scowled and stalked after him.

"What do you want me for? I'm just human. Treasure is just human," she demanded.

"You're mistaken. Did your parents not tell you anything?"

"What do you mean?" Dawn was confused.

"You're a Siren, girl. Why do you think everyone was so enchanted with your voice?"

"I'm a WHAT?"

"You're a Siren. You know, Greek Mythology. Beautiful women with voices that could hypnotize."

Dawn laughed incredulously.

"That's hilarious. But really…"

"You've never shifted forms, have you?"

He paused and placed one hand over her head. Dawn shrank back from his touch, but his hand landed on her forehead anyway. She yelped as a jolt rippled through her body. The back of her dress tore as two golden wings flowed out of her back. Her shoes slipped off of her feet when they became talons. She shuddered as her skin went from being soft and pink to hard, gold, and metallic like metal.

"Now, sing," Mephisto demanded.

Dawn hummed a note. The voice that came out of her mouth was…different. It had an almost mystical quality to it and it seemed to fill the air around them. Within seconds, they were surrounded by all sorts of scary, demonic-looking creatures.

"See?" he asked triumphantly. Dawn shuddered and shrank away from them.

"They'll do whatever we say as long as they have Siren song to follow. And you will give them the commands that I tell you to give them."

Dawn stared at him, open-mouthed.

"Ever hear of poltergeists? Malicious haunting? We're going to get every last one of them and build an army. From there…from there, well, we've got plenty of options."

…..

It wasn't easy to escape yet again, but he had no soul, therefore he had no qualms about jumping the guards. He'd pretended that he was still unconscious when they came in. Appearing in a burst of flames back on the earth's surface, he looked around. It was nighttime in the city.

Never had he felt so alone.

He felt confused and disoriented. He felt blank on the inside. He was trying desperately to hold onto his memories, for the memories were all he had left. The feelings were no longer there.

Blackheart recognized a familiar figure nearby. His strength seemed to wane considerably with each step, but he had to get help. He fell in a heap at the man's feet and stared into his former enemy's eyes.

"Help…please…he got…her…"


	13. Chapter 13

"What in the Hell are you talking about?" Johnny Blaze's voice asked sharply. The disdain and contempt in his voice was unmistakable.

"My father….he took Dawn and the baby…he took my soul…please…help us…"

The hardness in Blaze's eyes didn't change.

"I know you hate me and you can kill me yourself if you want to…but please don't leave her down there, Blaze…don't leave the baby there either…they don't deserve it…"

His consciousness was rapidly waning again. Blaze hauled him off the concrete and pulled him up by the front of his jacket.

"If you have no soul, why are you here? Why bother?" he asked.

"…Because I still have a brain and I remember…" Blackheart choked out, "…he forgot to take back my humanity…"

Then, the former demon fainted. Blaze was left holding the slackened body while onlookers began to stare. Muttering to himself, Blaze got on his bike and slung Blackheart's unconscious form over his bike. The engine roared to life and they drove away.

Once across town at the rundown house that Blaze lived in, he hauled Blackheart inside and locked the door. He lay the pale man on the couch and went to get a glass of water from the kitchen.

"How do I get myself into these situations? Why is it that everytime I start getting some peace and quiet that all Hell literally breaks loose?"

He chugged the water quickly and then refilled the glass. Feeling far from friendly, he marched back to the couch and threw some cold water into Blackheart's face. He revived, raising a hand to fend off the icy droplets.

"Ugh…" he groaned.

"Wake up, Sleeping Beauty!" Blaze snapped.

Blackheart gave him a Look.

"Now…why, of all people, come to me?" Blaze asked, "Did Daddy burn down your coffee shop or something?"

"No. He found out that Dawn isn't entirely human and he's planning on using her to control some sort of demon army to take over the earth or something."

"If she's not human, then what is she?"

"She's a Siren. He probably kept the baby to make Dawn obey him, though she's a half-blooded Siren and could probably be of use when she grows up. It's bad, Blaze…really bad…I didn't know who else to turn to…you're the only one whose seen how powerful he is."

Blaze frowned.

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean I can beat him. He gave me my powers, for God's sake! How do I know he can't come in here and take them away?"

Blackheart sighed. His mind was still very fuzzy and he still felt confused and disoriented. He was about to go under again.

"I don't know," he muttered, "but I know you care about her, too."

His eyes slid closed.

…..

Dawn didn't know what to do other than the one thing that would tick Mephisto off the most: she prayed. The prayer was silent and in her head where even he couldn't reach. She had only been separated from her baby for a few hours now, but she desperately wanted her back. Her arms ached for someone to hold.

She had been given a room well away from the screaming, tortured souls (though she couldn't forget that they were there). There was a big bed, a fireplace, and several elaborate and ornate furnishings. There was also a giant bathroom, the nicest she'd ever been in. But she was still locked in and it was still a prison nonetheless.

"Where are you?" she asked out loud, "Would you let one of your own people rot in Hell when you promised to protect us?"

Only the crackling flames answered her. She felt so much despair that she was cold even when sitting right on the hearth.


	14. Chapter 14

Dawn was half-asleep when Mephisto burst into the room. His usually calm manner was gone: he looked furious.

"Where is he?" he snapped. She had jerked awake and instinctively pulled away from him.

"Who?" she asked.

"You know perfectly well who!" he growled.

Her confused look convinced him that she had not been the one to help his wayward son escape. He reasoned, eventually, that she and the baby would have gotten away as well. She herself could not teleport between the realms.

"Great…now I have to track him down again."

Dawn's heart began to thunder.

"Daemon's gone?" she asked.

"Daemon, Blackheart, whatever the Hell you want to call him, yes he's gone. Happy?"

She didn't dare tell Mephisto that she was, but she contained her joyous yell in her thoughts.

"He left without you, you know. I took his soul and you probably don't mean very much to him other than power," the Devil said.

Dawn frowned as he left and locked the door behind her. Mephisto marched away, grinning. He knew that Blackheart had escaped, and as far as he was concerned, the boy was no longer a threat. Without his soul, Blackheart was sure to return to his formerly evil ways. Now that he had planted that seed of insecurity into Dawn's heart, he was certain that she'd actually become more cooperative. It was a good thing that he didn't know what was going on inside of her.

….

The spinning orb of color drifted through the dark abyss. It carefully avoided the flames, moving past the very deepest reaches of the icy canyon. It drifted, lost, alone, and confused. The light was flickering and fading. It didn't belong here. Perhaps it had once, but it had changed.

A man appeared out of the darkness. Both hands were bleeding profusely. A bad wound in his side was bleeding profusely. His forehead was scraped with thousands of little scratches, but this man was not broken. A fierce light, intense and focused, radiated from his dark eyes. He stretched his hand towards the flickering ball of light.

"Come to me, my lamb," he whispered, "let us leave this cold, dark place and rejoin the flock."

The colored orb obeyed, eagerly floating into his hand. He opened his mouth, wide, and stuffed it in. His body glowed for a moment before he melted away into the darkness again.

…

Blackheart was burning with fever. Unsure of what to do, Johnny Blaze had done everything he could think of to cool the former demon down, but nothing seemed to be working. He knew why: this was no ordinary sickness. It was a sickness of the soul, something that couldn't be healed with mortal means. In the past half hour, Blackheart had thrown up at least three times. He was now coughing up blood and his breath was uneven and ragged. Blaze watched over him from the side of the tub—he'd put him in there in hopes that the cool water would soothe the fever.

"Why did it have to be you?" he asked bitterly. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't hate him. The hatred was gone, replaced by a weariness. He knew what Blackheart wanted him to do, but he hadn't actually done it yet. He was too concerned about the dying demon. If Dawn and Treasure had what the devil himself wanted, they were probably unharmed and would remain so.

The flash of light took him by surprise, so much so that Zatharos burst forth like an explosion.

"Peace, my friend," the voice said, "I came here to help you both."

Blaze's face reappeared, startled.

"Quite a predicament, isn't it?" the dark-haired man said, "But that's what I do best—get people through them."

Blaze's eyes locked on the man's scarred hands.

"No…" he gasped.

"Yes."

"Jesus Christ!"

"One of my many names," Jesus answered with an amused smile. He quickly lifted Blackheart's head out of the water before his face could get submerged.

"There isn't much time. You know what to do. I will take care of this one," Jesus told him.

As many things as he wanted to say, Blaze didn't and couldn't argue. He hopped on his motorcycle. Puzzled as to where he was supposed to go, he looked back towards the house.

"Just up ahead!" Jesus called, "I will open the door for you!"

Sure enough, a dark ovular swirl appeared. Blaze morphed into Zatharos again, feeling like he would blend in better down there as a demon. The motorcycle burst into flame and he disappeared into the darkness. The door closed behind him, as it would be bad news if demons started escaping. Jesus turned back to Blackheart. He exhaled a white mist. The swirling colored orb appeared out of it and shot down Blackheart's throat. The ex-demon coughed noisily and opened his eyes.

"Where am I?" he groaned.

"You're still in Johnny Blaze's home," Jesus explained, "and he has just gone through the portal."

"I have to go help him," Blackheart said, reaching for a towel.

"No. You will stay here and rest. Your body is still very weak from the separation. You won't survive down there."

"But Blaze can," Blackheart argued.

"Yes, he can, but only because of Zatharos," Jesus informed him, "he is protected by the demon within. An odd twist in my Father's plan for him, but I don't question Him. He obviously knows what he's doing even if we don't. Now, then…there is a certain companion of yours who has missed you terribly."

Right on cue, they heard noisy barking from outside.

"Squishie came back," Blackheart said with a faint smile, "she always was a stubborn little thing."

"ARF ARF!" Squishie demanded, scratching at the door. Blackheart clumsily dried himself off and wrapped the towel around his waist. He let her in and was promptly assaulted with wet doggy kisses. It was hard to believe he'd ever despised her. Holding the furry, wriggly creature in his arms made him feel slightly better. Jesus stroked her head as well.

"I sent her to Dawn in a time of absolute darkness," Jesus explained, "when she was feeling utterly alone. Before she believed in me. She couldn't see good in the world, only blackness. Some people who claim to follow me had been very unkind to her for her lack of belief and she chose to turn her back, saying if my people were that way, then she wanted nothing to do with me. However, dogs are a lot more forgiving in most cases. They love unconditionally and are intensely loyal. She began to see our Father's presence in Squishie and the spark of belief took hold. It was because of this little dog that her whole life changed."

"Arf!" Squishie agreed.

"Will she be all right?" Blackheart asked dejectedly.

"It may not seem so right now, but have faith. You won't always see me, but I am there with you."

He chose that moment to disappear, but his presence lingered. Blackheart hugged the little dog to his chest, taking comfort in her warm fuzziness.

"I was never good at waiting," he lamented, "and I'm going to be terrible at it tonight."


End file.
